The Prime Directive
by Princepen
Summary: Set in the first season of TNG, Captain Picard makes a decision which violates the Prime Directive and must face the repercussions; in the process, revealing a horrible crime.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Trek**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**The Planet Trana IV**

Rolani huddled for warmth next to a man she had once hated. He had been her next door neighbor, and had been a vain and spiteful person. That was before the world had come down around them; before the murderers had slaughtered most of the villagers in the newly settled colony and driven the survivors into a series of caves.

"We are cursed," Rolani whispered, staring at the shadows on the wall flickering in the flames from a small fire.

"No…we are Chosen," the man said dully.

_Chosen_, she thought bitterly. It was a lie that had been told to her since she was a child. This was now the reality. It was a matter of time until they were discovered. And when the Brethren found them, they would all die. They would tell Rolani and the other hunted people that it was for their own good, and that they would exit this world into a better one. But Rolani did not care about another world; she just wanted to survive in this one.

* * *

><p><strong>USS Enterprise Star Date 411203.7<strong>

The holodeck doors opened with their characteristic sigh and she hesitated before walking in. She heard him before she recognized him, clothed as he was in an all-white fencing uniform. The rhythmic shuffling of feet on the mat forward and backward was quick yet controlled. Of course she shouldn't have expected anything less than the kind of exactness which she had come to learn was integral to the personality of Captain Jean-Luc Picard.

But newly appointed Chief Medical Officer Doctor Beverly Crusher had fallen out of practice dealing with this particular personality, and so she stood there waiting, unsure of whether interrupting the captain during one of his rare extra-curricular activities was wise. She continued to stand there for a few minutes more as he sparred with a holographic opponent. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her oversized blue lab coat, and watched as he put increasingly determined efforts into each attack. She listened as his breathing quickened indicating just how much he was exerting himself with each slice of the blade, each defensive move he used to stave off defeat.

Surprisingly the repetition of it all was mesmerizing to a degree. For a few moments she even began to lose her train of thought. She had rehearsed what she had planned to say to him; one never knew whether to expect a harsh tone or just the typical chilliness he so expertly conveyed. Beverly Crusher wasn't chilly at all. In fact, she was naturally quite warm-at least when her temper had not gotten the better of her. But she could be distant if necessary. Many hardships of the personal kind had seen to that.

In addition she had learned to extend her practiced medical detachment and apply it to her interactions with difficult personalities where it was warranted. Whether Captain Picard turned out to be one of those difficult personalities Beverly would need to treat with detachment still remained to be seen. The interactions between Picard and Crusher thus far had been mixed at best, and at worst, confusing and embarrassing.

It had been just three weeks since the captain had nearly ordered her transfer from the _Enterprise_ during the Farpoint mission, and only one week since the Tsiolkovsky virus had taken over the crew and caused widespread confusion and apparent drunkenness. Before she had isolated the cure, Picard and Crusher like many other crew members had not been spared exposure to the virus or the onset of the odd symptoms. As a result of their lowered inhibitions during those few hours, they had done their best to avoid each other since—with the exception of one extremely speedy physical two days ago. The Captain had ordered one for all infected crew members after receiving his newest set of orders, and to his distress seemed to realize only after issuing the order that he too would have to undergo a physical.

Now waiting to give him the results of the crew physicals, Beverly absently tapped the toe of her boot on the deck. For some reason Picard hadn't noticed she was there yet. And then she sat down slowly on a nearby wooden bench which emitted a very realistic creaking sound, and he jumped into the air in surprise. He turned to face her so abruptly that he forgot to tell his holographic opponent to stop its attack, and it scored a hit to his shoulder. Ripping off his helmet angrily he shouted, "freeze program!" The holodeck opponent stopped in mid-swing, and Beverly had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at how ridiculous the computer generated swordsman looked balanced on one foot.

The Captain however, was not laughing, and she could tell already that this was not going to be easy, simply because she had interrupted him. _Oh well_, she thought. He pulled off his gloves wordlessly and slapped them inside his helmet before placing it on a nearby bench. Straightening he placed his hands on his hips. "To what, Doctor Crusher, do I owe this," he gestured with his right hand, as though unable to come up with the correct wording before settling for "intrusion?"

Beverly took a deep breath. "You ordered me to notify you when I had examined the post-Tsiolkovsky physicals, Captain."

"So you came to holodeck six, instead of simply sending me a message," he said looking bemused. "How did you even find me?"

_Let's see ,should I tell him Riker told me, or_…. "I asked the computer, of course," she said as evenly as possible.

He raised his eyebrows and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Ah yes, of course." He was looking at her expectantly, now that what he considered pleasantries were out of the way.

"For the most part the crew is fit for duty, although I do have some concerns about one particular officer…which is why I thought I'd come down here to find you."

"Oh?" He took a step toward her with a growing look of concern.

She stood up from the bench. "Captain it's your cardiac implant…."

His expression immediately grew hard. "So you have concerns about my fitness for duty?" he said quickly.

_Interesting how his concern for his crew outweighs his concern for himself? Or maybe it's something else. _"No, Captain, clearly you are very fit. I had no idea you were a fencer, in fact…."

He merely frowned at her, uninterested in her attempt at small-talk.

"It's just that your heart is showing some wear and tear. We have more improved models now, Jean-Luc." He actually flinched at that, and then put a hand on the back of his neck, looking at the floor until she finished. _So, no interruptions while exercising, don't mention his artificial heart, no calling him by his first name…I suppose I should be making a list now, _she thought. _Whatever you do, Beverly, don't mention what happened between us last week._

"Captain," she said as gently as possible. "I simply want to inform you that within the next three years your heart may require replacement. Certainly there is no immediate concern, but I thought you should know. I have done a number of the procedures myself, and I'm happy to help any time you like."

He gave a little shrug, and looked up at her. "I appreciate the information, Doctor. Thank you," he said quietly. But his eyes were still very cold. Had she embarrassed him? Clearly he did not appreciate even the possibility of appearing vulnerable. Presently though he allowed a faint smile, perhaps just because he was aware that he appeared too distant, but she could tell he was still uncomfortable. "If you will excuse me, Doctor, I must go and review my orders for our current mission," he said walking past her toward the door.

"Captain…might I ask, what is our current mission?" she called after him.

He paused before exiting the holodeck. "It promises to be entirely routine, Doctor," he assured her before stepping into the corridor.

She watched him go. "End program," she said softly and the gym interior instantly transformed into a black and gold grid.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

><p>Commander William T. Riker was highly irritated, and more importantly he was on the verge of being bored. After giving the Captain a hard time about leading away team missions, he'd spent the last five thrilling days surveying planets for an elusive, but supposedly valuable mineral called Andurine. So far, he'd found hardly any significant deposits, but Captain Picard had assured him of the value of this assignment. <em>The man is punishing me with boring away team missions he would never in a million years want to lead himself<em>, he thought as he strode through the ship corridors. _Years of officer training and I'm out collecting rocks._ _At least this is the last survey planet before the next mission._ "Riker to Yar," he snapped tapping his com badge.

"_Yar here_," came the quick reply.

"Is the uh…the mineral guy there with you?"

"_The mineralogist sir? Yes, Doctor Francis is here with me in transporter one. Ready when you are sir."_

"Acknowledged. I need to check in with Captain Picard, and then I'm on my way to meet you."

"_Aye sir."_

He nodded to an attractive ensign who smiled at him in passing and then took a deep breath. "Riker to Captain Picard."

"_Commander, weren't you scheduled for departure to Trana IV at 0800 hours?"_

When it came to making sure that orders were being followed, no one would ever accuse Picard of being shy.

Riker leaned against the computer panel and the ship's clock appeared. It was three minutes past his scheduled departure time. "Yes, sir, we've entered orbit and I just wanted to let you know we're ready to beam down."

"_Of course you are." _

At times like this Riker recalled the advice of his former captain prior to his transfer to the Enterprise. "_Picard is going to be hard on you at first. That's his way, and no one escapes early difficulty with him, Will. Just ride the storm out for a few months, gain his trust, and you will be pleasantly surprised."_

Riker was careful to keep his voice even in his reply. "Yes sir. I'll report back as soon as we're ready to beam up from the planet's surface."

"_Be safe Commander; no unnecessary risks. Picard out."_

"Right…no unnecessary risks down on the big rock expedition," Riker murmured, making steps to the transporter room.

* * *

><p>"The Ciapathians are a highly advanced people, Counselor. And yet this is the first petition they have filed for entry into the Federation."<p>

Counselor Troi placed her data pad down on the conference table. She had spent the last hour with Captain Picard preparing for a delegation from the planet Ciapathia to come aboard the ship. It was a rare chance for her to communicate directly with the Captain with no one else in the room. Such opportunities had been few and far between since she had joined the new crew of the _Enterprise_, and she wasn't about to waste her chance to get to know him. "Captain, may I speak freely?"

Picard stopped tapping his fingers on the tabletop and looked up at her with a frown. "Yes, of course."

"This is the second time you have mentioned that the Ciapathians are latecomers to the Federation, despite their advances particularly in the field of medical science. Might I ask what your concerns are?"

He merely looked at her. She had already learned that his facial expressions held the key to interpreting his inner emotional state. While of course her empathic abilities could allow her to probe further, she knew that he found such things to be intrusive. So for now she approached him with caution, and as much as possible avoided direct contact with his mind. Sometimes his expressions were so deliberately unrevealing that she could tell he was guarding something very private, very dear to him. Other times, he made a point of showing the person he was speaking to that he intended to hide nothing. Usually this is when he was most passionate about a subject. He had been so when they faced trial before the Q entity, and she would never forget experiencing that introduction into the mind of her new superior officer.

Momentarily he spoke. "It seems rather odd that they would choose to enter the Federation without so much as a murmur of interest during the last century, Counselor. The question is, what do we have to offer a society that views itself as nearly perfect?"

"Protection perhaps," Troi offered.

Picard shook his head. "They have virtually no enemies that we know of."

"They are a humanoid race, so they may feel a kinship with us and the other founding races of the Federation. Or perhaps they simply want opportunities to share technology and collaborate with other advanced societies."

Picard sat back in his chair and laced his fingers over his stomach. "At this point, one can only postulate, Counselor. We have prepared ourselves as best we can with the information available to us," he said quietly.

She smiled inwardly. He was now prepared, and as a result, largely unconcerned about negotiations. "But you _are_ suspicious of the Ciapathians," she pressed.

He smiled thinly and leaned forward with his hands clasped in front of him on the table. "Counselor, are you attempting to read my mind?"

_He still doesn't understand why Starfleet has assigned a ship's counselor to the Enterprise, and he may never truly trust my empathic abilities. _She smiled with genuine warmth. "Of course not, sir. But you have expressed some doubt in this regard, as we have been discussing."

He sighed and got up from his seat, smoothing out the waistband of the form-fitting uniform. He walked to the viewport and leaned on his forearm looking out at the stars. "There was another factor Command included in my orders that you weren't privy to Counselor, which I feel inclined to share with you now."

_Oh my what a pleasant surprise…he is in a sharing mood._

He turned back to face her seriously. "As you know, the two delegations of Ciapathians coming on board are representatives of the two dominant political parties of the Ciapathian planetary council. But Premier Fon is actually the driving force behind his planet's entry into the Federation, while Representative Del has been more reticent to say the least."

Troi frowned. "So one political faction is fighting for entry into the Federation and the other is attempting to prevent it? Those are issues they should have worked out before they submitted a collective petition."

He nodded. "Hmm, that _is_ how it typically works. However, Starfleet has ordered that in this case I personally make every effort to heal the rift between these two factions so that the petition can be processed without delay."

"Someone at Command must really want the Ciapathians to enter the Federation."

He looked out the window again. "My guess is that Ciapathian medical advances will be of considerable use to the Federation."

"Have you asked Doctor Crusher her opinion on the matter, Captain?" Her eyebrows shot up involuntarily at the visceral reaction his mind threw back at her. It was a jumble of raw emotion and yet his posture didn't change as he continued to stare out the view port. Deanna quickly pushed the burst of emotion back at him, unable to interpret it in this setting, at this time.

"No," he said simply. "But perhaps I will," he said, turning back around to face her.

_Change the subject_, Deanna shouted at herself internally. "Now about the seating arrangements at dinner," she said.

The look on his face was priceless.

"Dinner, what dinner?"

"Dinner is customary as an ice breaker in Ciapathian society, although I am told they eat very little. But the seating arrangements may be problematic."

Picard appeared annoyed. "How so?"

"Representative Del has a large family, and traditionally they should be permitted to accompany him to dinner."

"How…large?"

"He has five wives," said Troi carefully. Picard raised his eyebrows. "And twenty-two children—"

"Oh…Counselor, there is no way in hell—"

"Captain, I would suggest a compromise—"

"No children," he said looking rather pale.

"Captain that would be a grave insult to Representative Del. Perhaps just half of Del's children could be permitted to attend the dinner."

Picard folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes briefly. "And Premier Fon? Does he happen to have an immense family as well?"

Deanna smiled. "No. Oddly enough Fon and the members of the ruling party typically have rather small families."

"How convenient for me," Picard murmured, still clearly annoyed. "Very well…let's have the hospitality staff replicate a very large table."

"Yes sir."

* * *

><p><strong>About 30 minutes later…<strong>

Beverly Crusher's eyebrows shot up in surprised amusement. "Twenty-two kids?" She sipped her coffee and then laughed into the cup. "How many of them are teenagers I wonder? Because one is enough," she assured Troi.

"I will take your word for it Beverly," Deanna said, sipping something that smelled like hot chocolate, but didn't taste quiet right. She would have to work on these replicator programs.

"_Finally_, someone who is willing to address me by my first name! Thank you for that," Beverly said, and clinked her coffee cup into the side of Troi's mug of hot chocolate.

"Cheers, to being on a first name basis," Deanna said.

Beverly smiled and her eyes took on an impish expression. "Deanna, I would have really loved to have seen the look on the Captain's face when you told him about that."

"It was certainly something to behold," Troi admitted. "He is still largely a mystery to me," she said, growing slightly more serious.

"Ha," Beverly said, getting up from her desk and placing the empty cup in a nearby recycler.

Troi held out her open palms. "That's it? For as long as you have known Captain Picard, I would think you would have some more insight into his personality, Beverly."

Crusher sat back down slowly, and Deanna actually felt the sensation of the emotional wall going up. Beverly gave her a weak smile. "Yes, you _would_ think so, wouldn't you?"

* * *

><p>"<em>Riker to Captain Picard."<em>

Picard shifted in his command chair, surprised to hear from his second in command so soon. Riker and his team had only been down on Trana IV for about an hour. He tapped the armrest on his chair. "Picard here, go ahead."

"_Sir, we've found the remnants of a small abandoned village."_

Picard stood up swiftly. "That planet was not supposed to be inhabited," he said sharply.

"_Nevertheless sir…."_

Picard turned to Data at ops. "Data, why didn't our sensors pick up any technology or evidence of a city before beam down? And no life signs?"

"Sir, it is possible that the technology in the village is so basic that our sensors did not recognize it as evidence of a collective dwelling. Additionally, Commander Riker did say that the village was abandoned. It may be that there are no longer any inhabitants. However, even if there were minimal life signs, our sensors could have missed them."

"Commander, have you been seen?" Picard asked, addressing Riker again.

"_No sir, none of the inhabitants or former inhabitants are present. Data's right, the buildings here, well the dwellings seem to be made of the same material as the soil here. Some kind of clay huts, which are very low to the ground_. _No wonder our sensors missed them."_

Picard ran his palms over his head. "And no people…."

Riker hesitated. _"No sir. But…there does appear to be some organic material at various spots around us on the ground. Could be blood, sir. It's dried but impossible to tell just how old it is, Captain."_

At that moment, Picard considered calling the entire away team back up to the ship, but something made him ask, "Did you locate any Andurine deposits?"

"_Yes sir, there appears to be a large hilly area about 500 meters away that Dr. Francis believes looks promising."_

Picard nodded, still thinking quickly. "Proceed with caution. If you see any sign of sentient life, take cover, and beam back to the ship, ensuring as best you can that you are not seen. Understood?"

"_Aye sir,"_ was Riker's reply before the connection cut out.

"Captain," said Data turning from his station. "If Commander Riker has in fact found a large mineral deposit of Andurine, it could be masking life signs even down on the planet. As you know, sir, Andurine has been used to produce cloaking technology."

Picard scratched his chin. "Yes I know, Data, thank you." He tapped his communicator. "Picard to Doctor Crusher."

"_Crusher here."_

"Doctor, there has been a development on the planet's surface and we require your expertise. Please meet me in transporter three in five minutes."

"_On my way."_

* * *

><p><strong>Hello there, as always, thanks for checking out my story and for reviewing. Hope you enjoy and take care. -PP<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Mr. Data, you have the bridge. Mr. LaForge," Picard added walking slightly forward to address the young man at the helm.

"Yes sir?" Lt. Geordi LaForge perked up slightly but knew better than to look away from his post. They were all in a sort of probationary period, and LaForge, who had been bouncing between various positions, including the helm was feeling highly insecure lately.

"Lieutenant, I want you to coordinate our transport out from the helm. I need someone I can trust at these controls."

"Yes sir," Geordi replied professionally.

Picard paused at the turbo lift. For a moment, he considered bringing Worf along, but quickly decided against it. Additional parties beaming down only increased the possibility of his crew being noticed by the inhabitants. And if Worf went along, Picard knew he ran the risk of exposing a fledgling civilization to not one but two alien cultures.

So he stepped into the turbo lift alone. "Mr. Worf, please relieve Mr. Data at ops," Picard said as the door closed.

"Did you hear that Data?" Geordi said with a grin as the lift doors swished shut. "He _trusts _me."

As Worf took Data's seat, the Klingon sat down and addressed Geordi without looking away from his control panel. "It will make it that much more unfortunate for _you_ if you _disappoint _the Captain," he warned in a low voice.

Geordi turned his head quickly to fix Worf with a confident smile. "Hey, I know what I'm doing—don't worry about it," he insisted.

"It is not _I _who should be worried," Worf said seriously as Geordi's smile faded quickly.

* * *

><p>Picard stalked through the corridors of his ship entirely lost in his own ruminations, and oblivious to the crew members who nervously moved out of his way.<p>

_Damn it._ It was problematic enough that he would have to justify sending Crusher to a non-Federation planet simply because Riker had discovered evidence of dead or injured persons in the abandoned village. Of course, yes he was concerned that someone in that village might be dying and felt a duty to help them. Of course, there were more important things than scouring a planet for its natural resources. But the Enterprise hadn't been ordered there on a mission of aid, and in fact until a few minutes ago, he hadn't known there would be anyone _to_ aid.

Picard knew that if he were to follow regulations as dictated by his superiors, he was expected to continue the survey as long as it could be done without interacting with or being noticed by the pre-warp inhabitants. The Prime Directive required that Starfleet personnel not interfere with less developed species, so as to avoid disturbing their technological and social progress. But because the mineral ore the away team had been charged with locating was so important to Starfleet Picard knew the potential violation of the Prime Directive was secondary to those considerations. However, he also knew that if someone was gravely wounded down in that village, Doctor Crusher could provide aid to the individual without his or her becoming aware of their identities, and thus Captain Picard would still be acting within the confines of the Directive.

The truth was it wasn't the potential violation of the Prime Directive that was truly bothering him. It was his inability to remain objective when it came to _her_. It was completely and utterly inappropriate, but his instinct to protect Beverly Crusher had overridden his command sense; and this was a problem. If he could not set aside his feelings, not that he was quite sure what the hell these feelings meant this arrangement would simply never work. He would not be able to serve with her on this ship.

He could hardly say her name inside his own mind without a mix of feelings and emotions that had been buried for years before she reappeared in his life and on his ship just weeks ago. And he knew it was his problem, not hers to correct. He was a decisive man, and wanted to retain the appearance of being so, which is part of the reason he would not change his mind about beaming down. Riker no doubt, would make his objections known. Even as he continued to criticize himself internally he could almost hear his father's voice from all those years ago.

_The sun passed over his face and he smiled as the warmth soaked into him despite the chilly autumn air._

_"Where is he?" _

_Jean-Luc's eyes snapped open at the sound of his father's baritone voice booming from inside the house._

"He's in the garden again," was his mother's reply.

_"What is he doing out there, Yvette? He's left his brother to do all the work in the fields."_

_"Maurice, you know your son," his mother reasoned with his father. "Jean-Luc is just busy planning his future again."_

"_His future! Without giving a damn about the rest of his family!"_

"_Oh, Maurice not this again," his mother gently chided his father._

_Jean-Luc had managed to scramble to his feet in time to face his father as the man stormed out of the house. Jean-Luc hurriedly kicked at the sand with his shoe, trying to cover the area he had absently been drawing on.  
><em>

_His father poked him in the chest with his callused index finger. "Loafing about—basking in the sun while your brother does all of the harvesting, I see."_

_Jean-Luc lifted his chin. "No sir."  
><em>

_"No sir? Watch your tone, Jean… what are you doing back here boy? Daydreaming about girls, no doubt. There will be time for that later. Until then, you'll work until I tell you to stop."_

_Eleven year old Jean-Luc made a sour face. "I don't dream about girls, Papa," he insisted._

_"Hmm," grunted his father, bending down to stare into the sand, where the outline of his drawing still lay in the sand. "Even worse than girls. Starships again," he grumbled._

"_I was going to go back to the vines soon enough, sir," said Jean-Luc._

"_Soon enough? Everything is always on your time, boy, expecting the rest of us to take your lead." His father placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "The grapes won't harvest themselves, Jean-Luc."_

"_Actually they will, Papa, they have robotics for that now."_

"_You and your damn technology!" His father shouted suddenly, shaking him by the shoulder. He stared his son in the eye. "You'll never have better than what we have here, do you understand me?"_

_Jean-Luc felt the sting of tears in his eyes, but said nothing, staring at the ground. His father gripped his shoulder and he knew it was meant to instill strength in him. But he didn't feel strong, he felt misunderstood. "Are you crying? Emotion will get you nowhere. Do you think they take crying boys in Starfleet?"_

_Jean-Luc shook his head no, and when he finally looked up to meet his father's gaze his own eyes were clear._

Picard blinked away the memory as he neared the transporter room. He hadn't thought about those moments for years. It seemed that he had forever been molding himself into the person his father had expected him to be even after he had left home for Starfleet and caused a rift in the family many years before. A rift that he had never bothered to try and heal.

And yet despite his father's stern warning all those years ago, here he was letting his emotions lead him. It was inexcusable. Later on he would be able to justify his decision by any number of well-reasoned excuses, but the reality was that he simply didn't want to send her down to that planet alone. He couldn't have sent Worf or a security officer down with her for protection. Because the reality was that if anything happened to her, it would be his fault, his responsibility. And so something very personal had driven him to go down himself. There was no doubt about it; he would have to get his feelings in line. After this away mission, things would change. He rearranged his facial expression to be as neutral as possible as he stepped into transporter room three.

* * *

><p>Doctor Crusher was already waiting, with her medical tricorder and her med kit slung over her shoulder. "What's happened?" she asked, her eyes wide but not alarmed. She was prepared, of course.<p>

He handed her a phaser. "Riker's found a small village down on the planet. It wasn't supposed to be inhabited. He indicated that someone might have been injured there, but the village seems to have been abandoned. Specifically he's found some dried blood but was unable to determine how long ago this…event occurred. He and the away team have gone to search for a mineral deposit nearby. If we are able to ascertain how recently it occurred—"

"Well let's go then," Crusher interrupted impatiently, holstering the phaser and stepping up onto the transporter pad.

"Doctor, we need to proceed with caution," he said, holstering his own phaser before stepping up beside her. "We are dealing with a pre-warp civilization and the risk of exposure—"

She fixed him with a stunned look. "You _can't_ be serious. As far as I am concerned, Captain the Prime Directive is irrelevant where there is a duty to assist those in need!"

Picard clenched his jaw tightly. "Doctor, the Prime Directive is _never_ irrelevant. And if I didn't agree with you that we need to provide whatever help possible, I wouldn't have ordered you down to the planet in the first place."

She glared at him, and he was sure she was about to say something more, when the transporter chief spoke up in a disconcerted voice.

"Sirs? Whenever you are ready—"

"Energize!" Picard and Crusher snapped simultaneously.

* * *

><p><strong>Trana IV<strong>

The two officers materialized amidst less than one hundred small dwellings. Riker had been right; they were constructed out of mud. Picard turned around slowly in a circle, surveying the terrain. To his relief, there were no humanoid creatures to be seen, and very little wildlife except a few birds. About 500 meters away, just as Riker had indicated, was a heavily wooded hilly area. "Riker's taken his team in that direction," he murmured.

Doctor Crusher had immediately begun surveying the ground with her eyes and tricorder. Picard kept a lookout, watching for any movement in the distance. But there was none. He thought he heard rumble in the distance, and the wind began to grow blustery, moving the trees back and forth. In the distance, the sky had darkened. A storm was coming. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw that a few paces away, Crusher was kneeling on the ground waving her tricorder over it slowly.

Presently he tapped his combadge. "Picard to Riker." There was no response, and when he hit his combadge again, it sputtered. _Damn. _Then, to his surprise it chirped a moment later. _"Data to Captain Picard,"_ came his second officer's perpetually unworried voice. He smiled. "Picard here…Data we've lost contact with Commander Riker. There appears to be a storm coming in, possibly causing interference."

_"Yes, Captain sensors picked up the storm's movement just after you beamed down. I would suggest either transporting back to the Enterprise or seeking cover, sir. In anticipation of communications interference I took the liberty of remotely boosting your communicator's relay power. By using a modulated bypass -"_

"Thank you for your quick thinking, Mr. Data," he interrupted before Data got on a roll. "I will try the Commander again. Picard out."

He sighed, and nodded at Crusher who was now standing next to him. "Picard to Riker," he repeated. Static. "Picard to Riker…."

_"Riker here—sir—-what-beamed…dangerous sir."_

Even through the static he heard the objection. Picard's brow creased with concern, although he was quietly relieved to hear Riker's voice. "Commander, you're breaking up. My guess is that between the storm and the Andurine deposits you've found, we're going to continue to have trouble communicating. Can you contact the Enterprise for beam out?"

"Captain," said Crusher, "The only animal life signs I'm able to read besides you and me are the birds in those trees over there. I'm not reading Riker's team at all."

Picard nodded. "It's the Andurine—it's a very effective cloaking material. " He hit his badge again. "Commander, you've got to bring your team out of that area so that the _Enterprise_ can get a lock on you. And you must hurry, a storm is moving in out here."

Riker's static-filled reply was quick this time. _"We have a slight problem-...Doctor Francis fell-...broke-...caves …very treacherous sir."_

Picard exchanged a worried glance with Crusher.

"Doctor Crusher is here with me…we're going to come and find you. Just stay in one place."

_"Don't advise it-...Yar and I- ...-carry Francis-"_

"Just stay put, so we can find you," shouted Picard above the now whistling wind. The communicator cut out completely and there was an immense boom of thunder from overhead. Both officers flinched.

"What did you find?" Picard asked.

"These dwellings are actually quite old, Captain. But the blood I found—and yes it was blood from something probably humanoid in form, was fairly new. I would say that something very bad happened here in the last few days."

"And yet no one is to be found," he said.

She shook her head. "No one. Although I did find some traces of what could be a very powerful plasma weapon." He glanced at the tricorder readings over her shoulder.

"May I?" he said and she handed it to him. He took the tricorder, switched its settings and knelt down examining the ground. He looked off again into the direction of the hills where Riker was located. Placing his hand on the ground he traced a faint pattern in the loose dirt. "There are more than three sets of foot prints here, Doctor. The away team is small; just Riker, Yar and Doctor Francis." He looked up at her. "Someone else either preceded them into those caves or followed them." Suddenly there was another boom and then a splitting sound. One of the trees nearby had been struck by a wand of purple lightning, and was now in flames.

"Let's get to cover," Beverly yelled, just as the rain began to pour down in sheets.

* * *

><p><strong>Hey! Thanks so much for your reviews, guys. I had some ex<strong>t**ra time before work this morning, so please see Chapter 4 which I will post momentarily. -PP**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

At an all-out run it took them just minutes to reach the wooded hilly area, but when they arrived, they were completely soaked. "Not good," Beverly gasped as Picard wiped the rain out of his own eyes.

"I haven't been in a storm like this since I was a boy," he said, blinking as water continued to stream down his face.

"You were a boy once?" Beverly remarked with a deadpan expression. In combination with her drenched face and hair, he could not help but find it amusing.

He smiled. "As odd as that may seem…yes. Now let's try and find some kind of shelter." But as they looked around them, there was none. "I think if we climb higher we'll reach the caves," Picard shouted, pointing upward. The thunder and lightning spurred them on, and they began to climb up a steep slope side by side, which only grew steeper until they realized they were nearly vertical. At some point Picard took the med kit from her and slung it over his back. Repeatedly they grasped a root ahead of them and then tried to propel themselves upward with their legs. It was extremely slippery and had it not been for the pouring rain they would have been completely covered in mud.

"You know," Beverly said trying to distract her mind from the fact that they were now much higher up than she found comfortable. "It used to rain on Caldos literally for days. I would grow so used to it that it was almost shock to see the sun."

"Oh? The summers seemed almost endlessly sunny at my home growing up. But the sun was my father's livelihood. We relied on it. In fact I can't think of anything worse than the days and days of rain you describe."

Just then they heard a roaring sound above them, and were horrified to see a rush of mud and water rushing toward them. "Oh no," Picard said, and linked his arm around Beverly's waist, gripping the root he'd been holding as tightly as possible.

"Shit!" Beverly cried out. They ducked their heads as the small mudslide descended upon them. Mercifully it was over so quickly and they did not lose their grips and were able to hang on.

His teeth now chattering, Picard closed his eyes and rested his head against the cold clay of the hillside. "That was close," he breathed. He could feel the rapid rise and fall of Beverly breathing as he carefully pulled his arm from around her waist.

Beverly spit out a mouthful of moss and looked at him. "Still can't think of anything worse than a little rain?"

Getting her point, Picard said nothing, but looked up ahead. "Look, we're almost there," he said. "Not much further and then we can find Riker."

"Right," was all she said.

* * *

><p>Several minutes later they reached the top of the cliff and collapsed on the wet earth. After a moment's rest Picard pushed himself up, and reached out to help Beverly only to find that she had sprung to her feet before he had. She had her tricorder out and was looking for life signs. "It's faint, but at least here I've got something that could be Riker and his team," she said. She smiled at him through a face full of mud and said, "We're almost there."<p>

Encouraged by her enthusiasm, he smiled back and looked up into the thick treetops, as the rain had become less heavy. "The storm's passing." He looked around them and then pointed. "Look! It's a cave entrance." Adjacent to the cave entrance was a beautiful waterfall flowing all the way down to the ground below them. He glanced back at Crusher to find that her bright demeanor had left her. He frowned and was prompted for some reason to place his hand on her shoulder. "Doctor, what's wrong?" He removed his hand self-consciously, but she hadn't seemed to notice.

She pointed in the same direction he had been looking and glared at him like he was crazy. "I can't get over to that. Look how tiny that ledge is!" She swallowed and peered down over the cliff only to be welcomed by a wave of vertigo. "Ugh," she said, stepping backward.

_She's afraid of heights,_ he noted with some surprise, finding it odd that she was afraid of anything at all. He followed her gaze and noted that yes, in order to get to the mouth of the cave they would have to traverse a very narrow ledge. In the pouring rain, while covered in mud. He thought it best not to suggest that it could be worse, lest he be proven wrong once again.

He smiled trying to be as encouraging as possible. As long as we stay tightly to the rock wall, we'll be fine," he reassured her. She forced a quick smile. "It's not far," he said. "Ready?"

Picard stepped out carefully onto the ledge and flattened himself against the wall, hoping to avoid another mudslide. His soggy uniform made a sucking sound against the rock and his boots were sodden with mud and water. He took a shuffling step to the left and then waved to Beverly. "It's alright, come on. It's very stable, don't worry."

Taking a deep breath she copied his movements, and refused to look down between her feet. She could hear the rush of the waterfall growing louder which meant they were reaching their destination. Instead of being encouraged, however, she felt a stab of fear and her legs wobbled. She stopped and shut her eyes tightly.

Picard looked at her with concern. "Come now, Doctor…all of that dancing you used to do has developed much better balance than I will ever have." She finally opened her eyes and looked at him and he could see the fear slowly ebbing. "You see?" he urged her gently. "I know this is nothing to you. We're almost there." She smiled at him and to his surprise, she reached out to grab his hand tightly.

If his heart had been fine before, it was now rapidly beating, but he didn't pull his hand away. Continuing their shuffling motion in silence they finally reached the other side. They jumped down into the cave entrance, seeing that it was flat, and were glad to get into some shelter finally. The ceiling of the cave was high enough that they didn't even need to duck.

Beverly sat down cross-legged on the damp floor. "Let's rest here for a minute, alright?"

He nodded and crouched down beside her looking out into the waterfall. It was so beautiful he admitted to himself, and yet all he could feel was uneasiness.

* * *

><p>"Sir, if we are able to get out of this cave system, we can contact the<em> Enterprise<em> and beam out from there," Yar said.

"You heard the Captain," Riker said, trying to wrap Doctor Francis' ankle with a bandage from a small field med kit. "He told us to stay in one place. But you're right, Lieutenant. If we can get the doctor out of here and then meet the Captain at the cave entrance all will be well." He put his hand on Francis' shoulder. The man was pale and in shock, and had struck his head along with breaking his ankle when he'd tripped and fallen down into this larger cavern.

The last thing he wanted was for Captain Picard or Doctor Crusher to break their necks coming down here too. "Doctor can you walk with our help?" he asked the shivering man.

"Uh…uh I think so," the doctor said and slowly sat up. He felt the back of his head. "What the hell happened?"

Yar stood over him "You fell," she said.

Riker raise an eyebrow and looked up at his Security Chief. It was hard to miss the disapproving tone. How anyone could have tripped while doing something so simple as walking was probably beyond the limits of her tolerance. Riker stood up and looked at her. "Let's look for a way out, Lieutenant," he said calmly.

She nodded, and was immediately checking the perimeter for openings. Suddenly there was a scraping sound, and Riker nearly jumped out of his skin. "What was that?" he whispered.

Yar had already pulled her phaser. "It's coming from over there," she indicated. "Someone's been watching us!"

"_Easy_, Lieutenant," he warned her. "Remember what the Captain said about avoiding the locals." But it was too late. Riker could see a pair of glinting eyes and then a shuffling as someone or something moved away quickly into the darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>Hi, thanks for staying tuned for more. I appreciate it...<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

><p>Beverly Crusher had vigorously massaged her biceps and shoulders and had even bounced up and down on the rocky ground for a full minute, but she could do nothing to get warm in this sopping uniform. Her muscles were stiff and sore. And now that they were about to venture into a dank dark cave she couldn't expect to be dry anytime soon.<p>

So now she sat and hugged her knees to her chest, and watched as the Captain continued to crouch down a few feet away, looking out into the waterfall with a somewhat mesmerized expression. He hadn't seemed to notice her calisthenics, which frankly was fine with her. But whether he was deliberately avoiding conversation with her she couldn't tell.

She honestly hoped that he wasn't going to decide to give her the silent treatment because she had held his hand for a few seconds on that ledge. She'd been trying to keep her balance that was all. She studied his very straight posture even while crouching and was wondering if he was attempting to impress her by keeping completely still for so long. He didn't even appear to be cold. _Show off_, she thought.

"I am _freezing_," she eventually declared. "Aren't you cold?"

He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Hmm? Yes," he admitted. He _was_ cold, and frankly just looking at her huddled there made him begin to shiver again. But he also felt somewhat distracted by the plight of the missing away team. He had been thinking things through, and given the communication difficulties, perhaps it would be better if Will and his team worked their way to Beverly and him instead of the other way around. But there was still the problem of the injured away team member. It then occurred to him that perhaps LaForge could attempt a beam out since the storm was now passing. He tapped his communicator but to his frustration it merely sputtered ineffectively. "Damn," he said under his breath.

"Well it's going to be even colder in there," she said nodding into the cave. He made some kind of grumbling noise. _These one way conversations are getting downright painful,_ she thought. _I'm sure he's worried about Will Riker although he'll never admit it._

She reached into her med kit and filled a hypo while her teeth chattered noisily. "Hold out your arm," she said as he knelt down beside her and stretched out his arm. "This stimulant will have to do until we can get out of these clothes."

Picard glanced sideways over at her wet uniform, very careful not to stare. It was an interesting choice of words, but he had no intention of saying something inappropriate in response. He heard the spray hiss into his arm and immediately felt warmth spread through his limbs.

"Thank you," he said as the drug swiftly kicked in. "I feel better already."

_And thank __**you**__ for saying more than three words_. "Good," she said aloud, getting to her feet. "We should find Riker now that we've had a moment's rest. I'm worried about Dr. Francis."

He simply nodded and then walked to the back of the cave looking for an opening. He almost swore out loud when it became clear that the opening was very low to the ground, which would mean they would have to crawl.

Crusher saw what he was looking at immediately and she hooked her thumb back at the treacherous ledge they had just crossed. "I'm not going back that way."

Picard sighed and lay down looking into the cave opening. _There is no goddamn way that Riker got through this tiny passageway with that giant body of his,_ was the first thought that came to his mind. "It's quite narrow. I would guess that Riker and his team took another route in," he called back to her in the most optimistic voice he could manage.

Beverly held her tricorder up. "After about ten meters it opens into a larger passageway," she said looking at the readout. "We just have to make it through the first part."

_Thank you, Doctor, for stating the obvious._ Picard turned to look up at her from his prone position, and then faced the opening again. "I'll go first," he said, and began to shove his upper body into the opening. It sloped downward a few feet and then leveled off, but once he was inside there was no way to even crouch, and he had to remain on his belly.

"Can't you move forward any further than that?" Her voice sounded far away.

_Not without losing most of my skin._ Picard sighed and grumbled to himself as he dragged himself forward holding a flashlight in his leading hand. He heard Beverly enter the cave behind him, and soon enough she was grumbling as well.

* * *

><p>"Lieutenant," Riker whispered loudly. "Get away from that area. There's someone over there."<p>

Yar waved her phaser in the direction their hidden observer had scurried away. "But sir, someone needs to stand guard," she insisted.

Riker glared at her. She was a stubborn hot head. Fiercely protective, and very capable, but right now she was a total pain in his ass. He crooked his finger at her. "Help me lift the doctor up this slope, so we can get back to where we came from. Do not interact with anyone, and do not fire your phaser in this damn cave."

Yar swept her short bangs out of her eyes and walked back toward him, holstering her phaser without a word.

* * *

><p>Despite Beverly's fear that it would be very cold inside the cave, it was so cramped that their body heat actually kept it reasonably warm. But it was uncomfortable and claustrophobic and Beverly couldn't wait to get through to the other side.<p>

"Will you answer a question for me?" She asked abruptly, after a long period of silence.

_Oh no_, he thought and actually paused his slow crawl forward. "Very well…go ahead," he said hesitantly.

_He's afraid I'm going to mention the Tsiolkovsky incident._ "If you could choose to be anywhere else right now, where would it be?"

Picard smiled, and paused to wipe a tiny piece of dirt out of his eye that was beginning to feel the size of a boulder. "Right here," he said, and resumed his crawl.

Crusher made a sputtering sound behind him.

"I beg your pardon?" He demanded, nearly scraping his head on the low ceiling.

"You expect me to believe, Captain, that of _all_ the places you could be in the universe, you would be happiest here in this cramped space? Although I'll admit to being a little flattered by that."

"The company does help," he admitted.

"Yes, but really…here?"

"I am doing my duty," he said. "It makes no difference whether I am on the bridge or here."

"So being a captain is what makes you happiest?"

"You never said anything about happiness," he retorted. "You asked me where I would choose to be."

"Fair enough," she allowed. "How long have you been fencing?"

"Ah…perhaps since I was about thirteen. Why do you ask?" he asked, both perplexed and irritated. He never understood talking just to talk, but assumed that Beverly was merely attempting to make the uncomfortable situation a little more bearable for herself. But her questions did not make it more bearable for him.

"No reason, just curious."

"Oh," he said rolling his eyes, which he only did because she could not see him. He paused and winced trying to shake out his right elbow which was tingling from the constant pressure on the hard ground.

"Do you like it?"

He coughed, waving at the dusty air. "Do I like what?"

"Fencing."

He took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like he would jump out of his skin if he didn't get out and onto his feet again. "No," he said.

"_What_? Then why do you do it?"

"Habit, I suppose. My father was a very intelligent but…traditional man. He detested or feared advanced technology—either way he didn't care for it. Physical strength was something he did admire and to the extent that I wanted to excel in sport, he was almost supportive. Fencing is about as traditional you can get when it comes to sports. I suppose there was a time when I wished for his approval."

"I see," Beverly said quietly, somewhat surprised by this revelation. She decided not to press the point.

* * *

><p>Yar had deftly climbed back to the area above the cavern where they'd been safely walking before Francis' slip and fall. She grabbed the man underneath his armpits and Riker pushed him up from below.<p>

"Ready? Lift!" Riker said and to his relief it went off without a problem. What he didn't expect was that when he glanced behind him, a woman would be standing there just a meter away. She looked very human, but when she spoke, it became clear that she was not.

"Grav senya," she said.

Riker's mouth hung open, completely unsure how to approach this situation. First contact. Picard would be furious. The woman was unarmed, was relatively small, with dark eyes and hair, pale skin and was dirty and wounded. A long cut stretched down from her forehead to her chest, and her clothes hung off of her in rags. She pointed behind her, and when he squinted into the darkness, he could see about a dozen other bedraggled looking people.

"Grav senya," she repeated, taking a step toward him. "Rolani, grav meta, em Pani."

"Sir," Yar called down to him. She had been watching, and was holding her tricorder in her hand. "The universal translator is working. "Her name is Rolani. She's asking us to help her family. She says they have been 'chosen'."

* * *

><p>They were the words he had been dreading she might say. And then she went and said them there in that cramped space with just a few more meters ahead of them.<p>

"So…about last week," she said. Picard remained silent aside from his labored breathing. His lungs could barely expand and contract in this tiny passage and she was going to take the conversation there anyway.

At some point he had rehearsed what he would have liked to say in this circumstance. He chalked it up to the lack of oxygen, but for whatever the reason he was now drawing a blank.

"I just want you to know that if I said or did anything inappropriate, I'm sorry," she said. "And as far as I'm concerned it's over and done with and if it is alright with you I would just like to move on with a clean slate," she said quickly.

Picard raised an eyebrow, which of course went unseen by Doctor Crusher. Now he remembered what he was going to say, because it was similar enough to what she had just said. He cleared his throat. "There is no need to apologize, Doctor…of course we were suffering from the symptoms of a virus." He thought it had been the correct thing to say, but her silence confused him.

Presently she spoke again and there was a definite edge to her voice. "Captain, you make it sound as if we were gravely ill. Most of the crew were throwing parties in the corridors and having casual sex. Not exactly a life or death situation."

"Aside from the exploding star we nearly flew into, I suppose you are correct, Doctor. In any case, there is no need to dwell on what occurred. To be honest, I'm not sure I remember most of what I said…or did," he said. Again the silence was deafening. He had never felt so claustrophobic, despite the fact that the air had changed and he knew they were nearing the larger passage.

"That's funny, Captain, because of all the patients I cured of this virus, you are the only one who has reported experiencing a loss of memory."

"Doctor—" He pulled himself up a slope and his face was greeted by a wash of cold air. Not fresh by any means, but cold. He stood up slowly and stretched out his limbs briefly. But to his distress, Beverly was still focused like a laser on the dreaded topic. She was entering the same area now, and pulling herself up to stand next to him.

"You know, Captain, I am beginning to think that you _do_ remember, and instead of taking responsibility for your actions- which from what I recall were really quite mild—you are _pretending_ that nothing happened."

He turned away then, and paced away. He would later replay that move over and over in his mind.

As Beverly followed him she didn't see the motion out of the corner of her eye. But she felt the impact as someone or something hurtled out of nowhere and slammed into her side. She went sprawling to the floor, and landed in sand, rolling. It was a person—a man, and he was about to strike her.

Picard spun around at the sound of Beverly shouting and saw a dark shape leap upon her. Shouting he grabbed the attacker and spun him away from Beverly, throwing the man to the ground. And then he struck the man repeatedly, until he realized that the man wasn't fighting back. "Who are you?" he demanded, shining his light into the man's face with one hand and pinning him down with the other. "Tell me!" he shouted but when he raised his fist this time, Beverly grabbed his forearm.

"Stop it," she ordered him. "It's alright, Jean-Luc. He's not fighting back. Enough." Slowly he relaxed his arm. She grabbed him around his chest and pulled him backward and to his feet. Trying to get his breathing under control, he kept the light framed on the man's bloody face. His lips moved, but whatever he mumbled was alien to them.

"He's trying to say something," Beverly said quickly and switched on her tricorder's universal translator.

"Em Pani," the man whispered up at them. "Sem kolos."

"My God," Beverly gasped. "He says: 'I am chosen. Please kill me'."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

><p>Picard backed up, holding on to Beverly's arm. He stared down at the now neutralized attacker, who continued to watch the two of them expectantly. He could nearly feel the adrenaline flowing among the three of them. Did this young alien actually expect them to take his life? Picard shook his gaze away from the man. Even in the dark the man looked not only humanoid, but disturbingly human. "Are you alright?" he asked Beverly, taking hold of her arm.<p>

Doctor Crusher jumped slightly but she didn't move away from him. She made a face and touched the left side of her ribcage gingerly. "Just some bruised ribs I think." Then she looked down at the scraped knuckles of his right hand. "You've injured your hand," she said. "Let me see," she demanded.

"No, it doesn't matter," he said, releasing her arm to pull his hand away.

She spread her arms wide as if to say _have it your way_. But then she whispered to him, "Captain, he looks _very_ human…."

"There is no possible way he is human, Doctor. There is no record of humanity having traveled in this sector, much less settled on a planet in this part of the galaxy. He's humanoid, yes…but human, no."

Beverly shrugged, apparently still intrigued, and she raised her medical tricorder as though to scan the still prone alien.

Picard reached out quickly and closed her tricorder with a snap. "No. We have to find Riker and Yar and get out of here and back to the ship," he reminded her.

"Not before I give this person medical aid," she said stubbornly.

"Do _not _touch him, Doctor, that's an order."

"Captain, you beat this man senseless a moment ago, and now you just expect me to leave him lying there?"

"Yes, I do! And he is clearly not senseless, as he was able to speak to us."

"He just begged us to _kill_ him, Captain! How is this coherent thinking? Perhaps you hurt him more than you think."

He clenched his jaw and stared at her, but her expression was immovable. Perhaps reason would work? "Beverly we are aliens to him, and I have no idea why he would say such a thing-primarily because he is from a different culture entirely. Before Riker's beam down, we had no prior knowledge of a sentient species on this planet. The bottom line is that we should not be interacting any further with this man."

"So the Prime Directive allows you to harm him and then just leave him lying there?" she argued.

Even in the light of his flashlight he could see the color rising on her cheeks. She was persistent if nothing else—although she was many more things, he was beginning to see. "The Prime Directive has nothing to do with what just happened here, Doctor. He attacked you!"

"And you defended me, and don't think that I don't appreciate it, Captain. But now he's injured, and I am a doctor."

Picard turned away from her and scratched his head. _Damn her stubborn nature, and damn my own for not beaming Riker and the others up when I had the chance._ Picard looked down the large passageway. Did he hear voices down there? Was it Riker? He strained to hear, but it had grown silent again. "Fine," he agreed tightly. "But _do not_ communicate with him."

Without a word, Beverly turned to attend to the fallen man, but spun back to Picard in surprise. "He's gone!"

* * *

><p>"<em>This is highly troubling, Lt. Commander…what did you say your name was?"<em>

"Data," answered the android patiently. His audio and visual receptors captured the expression of arrogance and condescension of the individual on the forward view screen, and he catalogued these features for future reference. As an android this was inconsequential, but as Starfleet officer in a diplomatic role, it was quite important.

Premier Fon of the Ciapathian people, glared back at Data through the view screen. The universal translator was operating at full efficiency, but the lack of understanding remained. "_You will have to excuse my rudeness,_" said Fon. "_But am I speaking to a living being…or an automaton, sent to do Captain Picard's bidding?"_

Deanna Troi glanced at her colleague out of the corner of her eye. He had asked her to feel free to interject, acknowledging that she was better equipped and trained for diplomatic interaction than he. Deanna found this to be quite generous of Data, considering that Captain Picard had left him in charge. It was also very insightful. It was not lost on Troi that many a human being was unable to recognize his or her most obvious weaknesses, and yet this unassuming android had no trouble doing just that.

So far, she was happy to observe. But as she watched Data's tentative negotiation, she couldn't help but wonder if the Captain and the rest of the crew down on Trana IV were safe and well, and if they would be returning soon. After all, this diplomatic mission would be difficult enough without added time pressures.

Next to her, Data remained expressionless except for a slightly creased forehead. "Actually, Premier Fon, under Starfleet's diplomatic rules, I am not at all required to excuse your rudeness; however, I will continue to do so."

Fon's rose-colored skin deepened in color, and the thin fin-like protrusion running from his forehead to his chin fluttered slightly. "_**Continue?**__ What is the meaning of this? Where is Captain Picard?_" he demanded.

_Oh he is not happy with Data_, Deanna thought. _I should note this for future reference: Premier Fon is easily agitated. He also seems preoccupied with something not immediately related to his business with us. Perhaps this will be worth pursuing later, once negotiations are underway._

Data frowned. "As I have already informed you, Premier Fon, Captain Picard is currently indisposed. Now if you would clarify: when you ask 'what is the meaning of this' to what exactly are you referring?"

"_No I will not clarify my words to a machine! Is Captain Picard not even on board your vessel_?" Fon appeared outraged.

Deanna cleared her throat. "I was not aware that bigotry was such a prominent facet of Ciapathian ideology, Premier Fon," she interjected. "Lt. Commander Data is a valuable member of this crew who was chosen by Captain Picard to command the Enterprise in his absence. I should think that insulting the Captain's designee would not be a positive beginning to talks between our two cultures."

Fon's pale blue eyes suddenly fixed on her, and she felt…cold. "_And who might you be?_" he inquired.

"I am Lt. Commander Deanna Troi," she answered smoothly.

"_And are you also an expert on Ciapathian culture?"_

Deanna smiled. "I am aware that Ciapathians care greatly about adherence to societal expectations, promises; even something so simple as a schedule."

"_And?"_

"And Captain Picard has no intention of the _Enterprise_ being late for our meeting at the designated coordinates. I can give you my assurance, Premier Fon that our ship will be at the coordinates you have identified in six hours."

Fon settled back in his large chair. He lifted his chin and his color lightened somewhat. _"Very well, Commander Troi. I appreciate your taking this matter under your very careful consideration. And I look forward to meeting you in six hours."_ He nodded curtly and the screen turned to black.

Deanna sighed and let herself deflate a bit into the chair. She bit her bottom lip and glanced over at Data with a slow smile. "That was close."

* * *

><p>Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher jogged along beside each other in silence, intent upon reaching the away team. After hearing a few familiar voices up ahead, they had nearly forgotten the disappearing alien. Presumably he had retreated into the shadows, hopefully, as far as Picard was concerned never to return. He didn't need the aggravation or complication, and certainly had more constructive things to do than argue with his CMO.<p>

To Picard's considerable relief they met up with the away team at a juncture. Riker and Yar had balanced Dr. Francis in between them, and he limped along quickly enough, while his colleagues supported him.

Riker broke into a grin, and laughed when he saw them. "Captain, Doctor. Glad to see you came to our rescue…and especially that you're alright," he added.

Picard smiled back at his first officer. "And you as well." He nodded at Dr. Francis. "You're not hurt too badly I hope, Doctor?"

Francis forced a weak smile. "No sir." He balanced on his good foot and held up a small bag. "And I was able to retrieve some very good mineral samples, Captain."

"What happened to you two?" Yar's concern was palpable as she stared at them aghast.

Picard looked down at his muddy uniform. "Oh. Yes, well—"

"You missed the storm," Crusher said. "With sheets of rain…and waves of mud," she said, carefully checking over Dr. Francis' injuries.

"Nice work wrapping that ankle," she mentioned. "For an amateur," she added, observing Riker's quick grin. She used the bone knitting device on the scientist's leg and then encouraged him to try it out.

Riker grew serious and pointed where the passageway branched off abruptly. "That's the way we came in," he said. "It's not far."

Picard nodded, personally satisfied that they would not yet again be required to drag their stomachs and other sensitive areas along the rocky cave floor.

Picard's head jerked up at the sound of soft footsteps. "What was that?"

Riker and Yar exchanged glances. "We're being followed Captain," Riker admitted.

"And you just thought to mention that now?" Picard snapped.

"I don't think we're in any danger, Captain," Riker said. "This was the fastest the three of us could travel, and they haven't ambushed us yet."

"_Who?"_ Picard and Crusher demanded at the same time. It was Dr. Francis who pointed back over his shoulder.

"Them," Dr. Francis said softly. Picard followed his gaze and sure enough the shuffling feet belonged to a group of perhaps a dozen tattered looking individuals—just as humanoid in appearance as the man who had attacked them. In fact, even in the shadows, Picard could see that the young man was now standing with the group. A woman stood at the front and had reached her arm around the still agitated young man and she was holding him to her tightly. She said something softly to him in an entirely alien language.

Picard could tell right away that she was the leader of this outfit, but he didn't intend on any introductions if he could help it. He turned to Riker. "We're leaving now Commander. We shall discuss the details of what happened here, once we're back on board our ship," he said tightly. Riker sighed inwardly but said nothing in response.

* * *

><p>They walked as hastily as possible with Doctor Francis' injury, and the group of aliens followed behind them with quiet footfalls, saying nothing. When they emerged from the caves, the sunlight was almost blinding. To their good fortune, the storm had long departed. Picard immediately tapped his communicator. "Picard to Data."<p>

"_Data here. Your transport signature is now clear, Captain. Lt. LaForge reports that he reads the entire away team. You should also be aware that there is a group of unidentified humanoid life forms in your area."_

"We know, Data."

"_We are ready to transport on your signal, Captain,"_ LaForge's eager voice drifted at them.

Picard and Riker glanced at the group of bedraggled people who had just exited the cave. A few of them had raised their voices and appeared to be starting an altercation. "Stand by, Lieutenant. We'd better get clear of them and then transport when they're out of sight," Picard muttered in a lower voice. "We don't need any further complications, Commander," he said to Riker.

"Understood sir."

Suddenly the away team turned as the commotion among the planet's inhabitants had become more intense. The woman from the caves was rushing toward them. Yar stepped in front of Picard holding her phaser at the ready. The woman began screaming in her native language over and over. "Grav meta, em pani! Grav meta, em pani!"

Yar didn't need the translator anymore, that bizarre phrase having been burned into her ears down in the caves. "She's saying 'help us, we are chosen', sir," said Yar.

Beverly glanced at Picard. "Captain, that young man who attacked us said something similar."

"Man who _attacked_ you?" Riker shot Picard an incredulous look. Apparently the away team hadn't been the only ones to make contact after all. Picard ignored him, still watching the strange scene playing out. A man fell into step behind the woman, and it became clear he was chasing her. He caught up to her quickly and tackled her to the ground. Beverly began to run toward the fallen woman, but Yar stuck out her arm and stopped Doctor Crusher in her tracks.

The woman moved like lightning and had wrestled herself from the man's grasp. Unexpectedly, instead of running, she spun and kicked the man in the face. He grunted and tried to struggle to his feet, as the woman resumed her run toward Picard and his crew.

"Rolani!" her pursuer screamed, staggering after her. She halted in front of Picard.

"Rolani meechu. Canul?" She bowed her head. "Em pani. Meecha Canul?"

Yar was too busy pointing her phaser at the woman to translate, so Picard tried the universal translator on his communicator, tapping it twice. It appeared to be working again, so he nodded for the others to activate their translators as well. Despite his misgivings, something caused him to gesture for her to repeat herself, which surprisingly she seemed to understand.

When the woman spoke again it was clear. "I am Rolani," she said. "Brethren?" she asked Picard and bowed lower to him this time. "I am Chosen. Are you Brethren?"

Picard frowned and shook his head. "No. I am not Brethren."

The woman let out a gasp of relief and crouched at Picard's feet, head bowed. "You are god, you are god," she repeated over and over.

Picard backed up. "No," he gave Riker a sharp look, which Riker didn't feel was exactly fair. "I'm sorry," Picard murmured to the woman. "I am not who you think I am."

The man who had been chasing her suddenly began screaming at Picard. "Whether you are Brethren or not, you must kill us! Do not abandon us here! We are Chosen!"

Picard shook his head and turned to leave, when the woman who had identified herself as Rolani began shouting back at the man.

"We are free. Now that god has come, the Brethren cannot touch us." Then Picard watched in shock as the young man who had attacked Beverly back in the caves walked up beside Rolani and took her hand. "This is my brother, Li. He says he met you in the caves and he asked you to kill him. Instead you touched him, but he did not die," she pointed to the young man's bruised and bloodied face.

Picard felt awash with guilt. The man had apparently been happy to have been struck by Picard—and to have lived. Underneath his confusion, he felt incredibly guilty. "You spared him," Rolani explained. "Not like the others who died before the Brethren." Suddenly she grabbed Picard's hand tightly. "You are god." Picard tried to take his hand from hers, but she clung to him desperately.

"You must save us. Please save us! We have seen you come from the sky," she pointed at Riker. "You can return from where you descended and you must take us with you."

"We must not become entangled in matters of your society," Picard told Rolani.

"If you do not, we will all die at the hands of the Brethren. They will come for us and kill us all."

"Leave us here," shouted Rolani's opponent. "We were Chosen to die."

"No!" Rolani shouted. "I want to live. And so do they," she pointed back at the group of people, staring wide-eyed at him. When he looked at them they dropped down to the ground and bowed their heads.

Rolani gripped his hand even tighter. "Please. They will return and slaughter us all!"

Picard closed his eyes. He wasn't sure why he made the decision, or whether he would, in the end, regret that he had made it. He tapped his communicator. "LaForge…can you get a lock on the life forms in our immediate vicinity?" Picard glanced at Riker, whose jaw had literally dropped.

"_Aye sir…." _was Geordi's reply.

"Mr. Data…."

"_Yes, sir?"_

"I need you to create a program replicating the environment of this planet on holodeck one. Understood? Do it quickly, we can improve the program later."

"_Aye sir."_ There was a pause. _"The program is complete sir."_

Picard nodded. "Good. Geordi, lock on to the life forms and beam them to holodeck one. And once that is complete, beam us to transporter room one."

"_Aye sir."_

Picard tugged his hand away from Rolani and stepped back just as she and Li and the others disappeared in a collective transporter beam.

By the time a second transporter sequence took the away team, Picard had already begun to question his own decision. He had after all just broken the Prime Directive, and one could only guess just how much trouble would follow.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

><p>Picard sat in his quarters with the lights turned down low, despite the fact that it was mid-afternoon. He had taken a shower, put on a fresh uniform, but was far from relaxed. He sat very still with his forehead resting on his palms. To the outward observer he would have appeared to have been on the verge of sleep. Unfortunately nothing could have been further from reality. His mind was racing.<p>

His first meeting with the Ciapathians would take place in just under four hours. All of his diligent preparation with Counselor Troi seemed to have been jettisoned from his consciousness following the incident down on Trana IV. He was trying to gather it back and reorganize it in time for the negotiations. At the same time a much more dominant corner of his mind was continually replaying the conversation with Admiral Nechayev he'd finished just minutes ago on a priority one channel.

"_I have read the separate accounts from your crew regarding the incident down on Trana IV, Captain. I have also taken the liberty of sharing your report on Trana IV with some of my colleagues here at command,"_ Nechayev had said.

"Thank you Vice Admiral," he'd replied.

She'd given him a rare smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "_Captain, the Prime Directive violation is understandable under the circumstances. And your crew was more than supportive in their statements." _

"Yet it is still considered a violation," he said. "At least it does not fall under any of the usual exceptions. Of course my own crew was not at risk."

"_I would like to think that anyone else in your position would have done the same. There were exigent circumstances of course."_

"As you know sir, the problem was not just that I beamed them up to the safety of the Enterprise—a place entirely alien to them- but also I took the word of their leader, Rolani without question. No one actually gave their consent, and some of those individuals actually wanted to be left there to die!"

_"Hmm. Still…the incident is sure to be expunged from your record eventually, Captain_," she reassured him.

"Admiral, my record is the least of my worries right now." He gripped his knees tightly. A twinge in his right fist reminded him of the look on the face of the young alien he had injured. "What on _earth_ am I to do with this group of people, now that they are on board my ship?"

"_Do your best to minimize the damage,"_ Nechayev said in her usual perfunctory manner.

"Any immediate steps that would require returning them to Trana IV, are absolutely out of the question, Admiral...at least while they are still at risk from these Brethren individuals."

_"For the moment, I agree."_ She allowed a small smile. _"Although, the actual threat to these people may be as much of a fallacy as their belief that you are a god, captain."_

He couldn't share her amusement, but she had a point. "It may be a fabrication, or perhaps they are merely delusional."

"_Or, they actually are at risk from these Brethren people,"_ she said. _"Perhaps you will need to find out exactly who the Brethren are in order to decide what must be done with these refugees from Trana IV. Whatever you decide, Captain, it is important that you do not allow the Ciapathians to become aware of your holodeck guests. Beyond the obvious Prime Directive concerns, we do not need additional mistrust or confusion to arise which might hamper negotiations."_

"Were you aware of any sentient species besides the Ciapathians in this sector, Admiral?" Of all his superiors, Picard knew Alynna Nechayev couldn't care less about being put on the spot. But something about the sudden change in her demeanor gave him pause.

Her expression grew more severe. _"There are several cultures known to Starfleet,_" she admitted. "_But we certainly didn't expect to find any on Trana IV."_ She leaned forward emphatically. "_All the better that you and your crew were the ones to encounter them, Jean-Luc. There is no other captain who I trust more. In fact I handpicked you for this assignment."_

He raised quizzical eyebrows. "The Ciapathian negotiations, or the mission to find Andurine on Trana IV?"

_"Both," _she said._ "The two are connected, if you haven't already guessed."_

He nodded. "At first I assumed the negotiations were made a priority because of the Ciapathians considerable expertise in the medical sciences. But...as I considered it, by bringing the Ciapathians into the Federation, this sector would be opened up to exploration. I also had Mr. Data do some research and he determined that there are six other supposedly barren planets in this sector which are rich in mineral deposits-namely Andurine."

She smiled. "_You've seen its incredible masking attributes up close and personal, Picard. Now are you convinced of its worth to the Federation?"_

He nodded. "Yes, but I am also convinced that it presents a danger to our values. The development of cloaking technology by the Federation is illegal, Admiral. We are explorers—we have no cause to be sneaking about under cover."

_"There are some...many in fact who don't share your adherence to duty and are willing to overlook certain legalities, Captain. Of course...I am not one of those people,"_ she added.

"That goes without saying, Admiral. But are you saying that the reason I am being asked to do my best to ensure approval of the Ciapathian's petition is because the worlds in their sector hold Andurine? "

"_There is always more than one reason. But let us just say, Captain, that if you hadn't left Trana IV with some viable samples, Command would be looking perhaps more critically at the Prime Directive violation. I however, am more concerned with whether the Ciapathians are good candidates for entry into our society."_

Picard sighed and then frowned as a thought occurred to him. "If these Brethren do exist, Admiral, and they apparently have space flight capability, how is it that the dominant species in this sector, the Ciapathians are not aware of them?"

Nechayev smiled slowly. _"**If** the Brethren exist, who says the Ciapathians are unaware of them?"_

"Well, then they have conveniently left any mention of the Brethren out of their recorded history of this sector. And to add to that…they have reported Trana IV as uninhabited."

Nechayev 's gaze was piercing even through the vid screen. "Captain, I am intrigued by this line of thinking. Let us resolve the mystery of these Brethren. If the Ciapathians are aware of these brutes, and haven't mentioned them thus far, it could negatively affect their petition."

_She doesn't trust the Ciapathians; that much is clear,_ he thought. "Yes sir."

Nechayev nodded and reached out as though to cut the connection, but hesitated. _"One more thing, Captain. How are things progressing with your Chief Medical Officer?"_

Picard felt stunned as if he had just been sucker punched. "Progressing...what do you mean?"

_"It's a simple question, Captain. Quite frankly your hesitation concerns me."_

He straightened. "Sir, Doctor Crusher is acclimating very well-"

_"Of course she is, she's the best we have,"_ Nechayev snapped.

"Yes, then why-"

_"Jean Luc, do you have any idea how hard Beverly crusher fought to obtain the CMO position on board your ship?_"

He remained silent unsure of how to respond.

Nechayev didn't seem to mind. _"I was one of her biggest critics early on," the Admiral admitted. "It was difficult for many of us involved in the Enterprise commission to believe that she could objectively serve under the command of someone who was so central to such a tragic period in her life. But she convinced me. You will both be doing the Fleet a service if you prove those wrong who believe you two will not be able to move beyond Jack Crusher's death in order to serve together. Your colleagues need people like the two of you to believe in, Captain."_

He knew he hadn't been able to prevent himself from wincing involuntarily at the mention of Jack's name.

"_I see that you still have progress to make in this area, captain_," she remarked more gently than he had come to expect from her.

He looked down at his hands for a few moments. "Yes," he finally admitted quietly, looking up at her.

"_Jean-Luc...I have never met an officer who had no personal or professional hurdles to overcome. There is no doubt that you have more than a few still in your way. But you are a person who faces problems. You don't avoid the hurdles, you leap them. This matter with your CMO is no different."_

He straightened in his chair. "Yes Admiral. I shall endeavor to do as you say," he said, still not entirely sure what she was asking of him.

* * *

><p>The subspace conversation had ended then and now Picard was still deep in thought. That is, until the door to his quarters beeped. <em>Damn.<em> He glanced up and felt an unpleasant tightening in the back of his neck. "Come," he forced himself to call out. He stood up stiffly from his desk and smoothed out his uniform.

"_Yes?"_ he called out again with undisguised irritation, as the doors swished open and Beverly Crusher stepped inside. She too had changed out of her stiff muddy uniform and unlike him she at least appeared relaxed. He watched as she walked over, and noted no limping or other difficulty. He was relieved that she hadn't been more injured by the attack in the cave.

She smiled at him. "Hello, Captain."

"Hello," he said, clasping his hands in front of him. "You are looking well. No serious injuries, I hope?"

She circled around for a moment and then stopped in front of him. "I'm feeling fine," she said. "Thank you for asking."

He nodded, and started to say something, but it came out as a quickly mumbled "Yes, of course."

She placed her hands behind her back and shifted her feet. She nodded downward. "How is your hand?"

He smiled. "Very well, thank you."

She frowned. "You never came to see me for medical treatment," she observed. She didn't sound the least bit angry, which he thought was quite positive.

He shrugged his shoulders. "It was...it was really a minor injury you see."

She shook her head and shrugged back. "No I don't see. Why don't you let me take a look at it?"

"You don't have your med kit," he said.

"I was a doctor long before I owned a med kit, Captain," she said smoothly. She gestured over at his couch. "Why don't we sit down over here? It's more comfortable than standing here staring at each other."

"I'm not staring at you," he protested, and it came out more defensively than he intended. If she was offended by his tone, she didn't let on, and had already walked over to his couch and sat down. She looked at him expectantly, and he suddenly realized that it appeared that she was enjoying his discomfort. She slowly patted the couch cushion beside her. Annoyed at his own foolishness he walked over and sat down next to her stiffly with his hands on his knees.

She held out her hand, and he reluctantly raised his bruised hand for her to look at. She took his hand gently, and he tensed a little bit. Embarrassed he said, "Your hand is a little cold."

She smiled slightly but said nothing as she turned his hand over in hers, studying it. "I wanted to tell you...you did the right thing down on Trana IV."

He inhaled deeply and looked away. "I did the right thing for that moment," he said turning back to her. "It remains to be seen whether I will be able to continue to make the right decisions as far as the Trana people are concerned."

"Is that what we're calling them now?" she asked. He jumped a little bit when she traced her fingertips over his knuckles. She looked at him with some surprise. "Does that hurt?"

He shook his head no, quickly. It hadn't hurt, but the mere touch of her hand had an effect on him that he hadn't anticipated. His breath caught in his throat. "It's fine," he said.

She smiled faintly again and bent his wrist back and forth gently. "I can see already you are the type who doesn't enjoy visiting the doctor, Captain. Don't worry, I won't take it personally. Most people absolutely hate going to the doctor."

He looked down and noted that there was very little space between his knee and hers as they sat beside each other. He cleared his throat. Was she nearly done? He was growing uncomfortably warm for some reason. Feeling her gaze on his face he turned to look at her. She had stopped examining his hand and was now just holding it lightly in her own.

"You were right," she said softly. "Your hand is just fine. Just a little bruising is all."

He looked down at their joined hands and then back up into her face. "Oh. Alright."

There was an almost surreal silence, and Beverly seemed to lean closer to him, but then suddenly she released his hand. Her face changed, grew more tense. "I should go." She stood up and folded her arms over her chest as a kind of shield, appearing just as uncomfortable as he felt. She forced a smile. "You're going to hold a briefing soon on the Trana people?"

He nodded, but remained seated, not wanting to close the distance between them again. "I know that it seems callous, Doctor to just leave them there... but I've got to get through this initial meeting with the Ciapathians this evening. I have asked Counselor Troi to arrange for the dinner to be held tomorrow evening. After the meeting tonight if you would meet me at the holodeck we can speak to Rolani and the others and determine their immediate needs. For now I've arranged for food to be discreetly delivered to them on the holodeck."

She nodded. "Whatever you think is best, of course," she said evenly. "Good luck with the Ciapathians...and I will see you later."

"Thank you for coming by, Doctor," he said standing up as she exited.

* * *

><p><strong>Hello, thanks very much for reading and reviewing. I appreciate you following the story. -PP<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

><p>Picard, Riker and Counselor Troi stood in the transporter room awaiting the arrival of Premier Fon and Representative Del from the lead Ciapathian Delegate ship.<p>

Although initially relieved by Picard's decision down on Trana IV, Will Riker was now just as worried as the Captain about what to do with the survivors, currently housed on holodeck one. Will supposed that he would have to trust that Captain Picard had some kind of plan. And now, the Ciapathians, proving to be extremely punctual, were already waiting at the designated coordinates when the Enterprise arrived. What the Enterprise crew had not been expecting was that the Ciapathians would decide to bring a quarter of their space fleet with them.

"Fifteen ships…seems like overkill to me," Riker said quietly, turning to address the Captain.

"Agreed, Commander," said Picard, not taking his eyes off of the transporter pad. Riker was right…to send an entire convoy of ships to a peaceful negotiation was an odd way to begin a relationship. However, there was no need for alarm. Picard had come to take cultural differences and perceptions in stride. He suspected the Ciapathians were attempting to send a message, but what that was remained to be seen. Although not at the forefront of his concerns, Picard also sincerely hoped that Del would not be bringing any one of his twenty-two children along to this meeting today. To his left, Counselor Troi had her eyes closed, and appeared to be in some kind of meditative state. As long as she was alert once the Ciapathians were in the room, he decided not to concern himself with her odd methods.

Deanna Troi meanwhile had been calming her mind for the upcoming meeting. To be faced with several new alien minds, in addition to the racing mind of Will Riker and the focused mind of the captain was going to be a challenge, she knew. She had warned both Picard and Riker about Premier Fon's arrogance during his interaction with Data, and had suggested that the Ciapathian leader might be hiding something. Of course the Captain had looked at her with his steely gaze and asked "what exactly is it that he is hiding?" And of course Picard found her response to be unsatisfactory. And there was the problem Troi now realized she would regularly face with her new captain; he was exact, and expected direct answers at all times. Deanna, while direct in her speech and as a counselor, often relied on sensing the emotions of those she was interacting with. And being a skilled empath was part training, part genetics, and never exact.

"The Ciapathians are requesting to beam over, Captain," said the Transporter Chief, interrupting everyone's thoughts.

_About bloody time._ Picard nodded. "Go ahead, Mr. O'Brien."

* * *

><p>"Hi Mom."<p>

Beverly looked up from the requisition report she had been reading. "Oh, hi Wes. How was school?"

He shrugged and sat down, slumping in the chair. "Okay, I guess."

Beverly put down her data pad and looked at him. "You came all the way to sickbay to tell me that your day was okay you 'guess'...what's going on? Come on and tell your mother," she said teasingly and reached across the desk to try and poke him.

Wesley jerked backward in his chair. "Mom!"

Beverly laughed. "Well you are _very_ sensitive today, I see." She sat back in her chair and watched her son, who remained tight-lipped. "Alright, you don't have to tell me…we can just sit here and have a staring contest. You know I always win at that."

He made a face. He was at the age of making faces, she supposed. She thought of the Ciapathian politician with the twenty plus kids and considered herself lucky to have only one sullen teen to contend with.

"Have you talked to Captain Picard?" He asked after a moment.

Beverly blinked and then laughed. "Wes, you're going to have to be more specific than that. I talk to him at least once a day about one thing or another." _Whether he decides to engage in the conversation is entirely another matter,_ she thought to herself.

"Mom…."

Suddenly realizing what he meant, she sighed. "Wes…really you're going to have to put the Tsiolkovsky incident behind you." _Take your own advice, Beverly._

"I just feel like he's going to hold it against me forever. I mean, I did take over the ship after all. And he seemed more than a little upset at the time."

"Trust me, the captain isn't dwelling on the matter, and neither should you."

"Yeah but, well I was going to apologize to him, but every time I see him he either walks by me like he doesn't even see me or he just nods like he wishes he hadn't seen me."

Beverly smiled sympathetically. "I know. But, if it is really bothering you so much, I could ask for him to meet with you—"

"Mom!" Wesley stood up quickly and ran a hand through his hair. "No…it's okay, I don't need you sticking up for me—"

"I'm your _mother_, Wes. That's what I do."

"I know…but he already just thinks I'm just some dumb kid—"

"Wesley!"

He sat back down heavily. She regarded her son and his forlorn expression. She hadn't realized until that moment how much he had been seeking Captain Picard's approval. No doubt this is why his symptoms from the Tsiolkovsky virus had manifested themselves in such an extreme way. Taking over engineering and the ship…and then ultimately devising a way to help save the ship from an exploding star. Something about his admiration for the captain made her proud of her son and worried at the same time.

She reached out and took his hand. "Wes, look…I have known Captain Picard a long time. And I know for a fact that he doesn't just view you as some dumb kid. Remember he knew you when you were a little boy. He met you when you were just a baby."

Wesley shrugged but didn't pull his hand away from hers. He looked at her. "I don't understand how he and dad could have been such good friends. I mean dad was always laughing about something, but Captain Picard…well it's like he's the opposite of dad or something."

"Opposites attract," she said, and then couldn't believe that she'd said something so trite. She closed her eyes briefly and withdrew her hand from his. "What I mean, Wes, is that your father and the captain had many things in common, despite their differences, that made them the best of friends. They loved each other. So I know that the captain cares about you too. Maybe you remind him of Jack, of his friend."

"Did he tell you that?"

"Well, not in so many words, no…."

Wesley smiled slightly. "I get it. He doesn't show how he really feels. I wish I could be that way."

"Wes, what do you mean?" Beverly asked quietly.

"I'm not good at holding things in. If I feel something I can't help it, I have to show it—I have to tell someone."

"But I'm glad about that, Wesley. That's who you are."

Wesley blushed. "Thanks, Mom." He got up from his seat and gave her a quick hug. "I'm going to go home. Are you working through dinner?"

She smiled up at him. "No, I'll be home in about an hour. See you then?" He nodded and then left her office quickly.

* * *

><p>Beverly looked down at her hands in her lap. She thought about the fact that she had held the captain's hand twice in one day. Granted the first time, she had been hanging on for dear life. But the second time…why had she held his hand when they were alone together? And why had she pulled away? Had he wanted to be closer to her? Something inside her told her that he did, but as Wesley had accurately pointed out, Jean-Luc did not easily reveal his feelings.<p>

In the caves, she had accused him of conveniently forgetting what had happened between them the week before when they were infected with the Tsiolkovsky virus. But what she'd really been upset about was that in doing so, he was also denying something that had gone unspoken between them for years. But she knew that being angry at him wasn't fair, since she had never admitted her feelings to him either.

In truth she didn't even understand what those feelings were. She recognized that they had both shared an attraction that remained uncomfortably present throughout her marriage to Jack, but that was moderated by the fact that they didn't often see one another. And now, it seemed that the unspoken fear was that that if either of them admitted how they felt, they would be betraying Jack.

* * *

><p>In person, the Ciapathians were curious to look upon. Even more curious was that Premier Fon, his chief scientist Dr. Petral, and his Chief of Arms Reth appeared physically very different than Representative Del, who to Picard's surprise came alone. Although all of the Ciapathians had bright red skin, Premier Fon and his entourage were of noticeably lighter complexions, and to a person they were considerably taller than Del. They all shared the distinctive forehead to chin ridge in the center of the face, and all had light blue eyes. <em>Perhaps these are the two dominant ethnic groups<em>, thought Picard.

To the Enterprise crew's slight discomfort, Chief of Arms Reth had brought along what they could only assume was the equivalent of a guard dog. Reth held onto the hissing, growling creature with a short energy chord, which he held tightly. The creature resembled a giant black insect with snapping pincers at the front of its mouth. It made Riker reconsider having left his phaser behind. Reth himself was taller than Riker and very broad shouldered. He said nothing, but a cold smile was fixed on his thin lips as he glanced around at the ship's interior, and its crew. Riker noted that a nasty looking whip was coiled at Reth's hip.

Dr. Petral stood very still, with his hands behind his back. His eyes were shielded by a strange-looking ruby red visor, not very similar to the one Laforge wore. Like Reth, he remained silent.

Fon was tall and imperious, while Del was short and stout, and completely bald with a long beard. They both stepped down from the transporter pad at the same time. "Captain Picard," Premier Fon said, extending his hand. "I greet you in the traditional manner of your people." He smiled, but it seemed artificial as though he had been practicing with some difficulty for this moment. Practicing no doubt, just as Picard had been.

Picard stepped forward and clasped his hand. "Premier Fon, on behalf of the United Federation of Planets, it is a pleasure to meet you. And Representative Del," said Picard offering his hand. "A pleasure to meet you as well. Welcome aboard the _Enterprise_."

Del broke into a wide smile, revealing large white teeth. "This may prove to be an interesting adventure, Captain." He glanced around him. "A beautiful ship, indeed. My wives will be impressed."

* * *

><p>The initial meeting mainly involved introductions, and the setting of ground rules for the negotiations, interrupted only occasionally by the hissing of Reth's giant insect, which sat poised on its six segmented legs in the corner of the conference room. It became clear very quickly that the two Ciapathian leaders disliked each other—greatly. It also became clear that Fon was here to ensure entry into the Federation, and Del, as friendly as he had appeared initially, was determined to do whatever he could to prevent that from happening.<p>

After the meeting, Riker showed the guests to their temporary quarters while Picard and Troi walked through the corridors of the ship. "Your thoughts, Counselor?"

Troi glanced up at the Captain as they walked side by side. "As you no doubt noticed, sir, Fon and Del are political enemies. They have been vying for control on their planet for years, and for the moment Fon has the upper hand."

"More than a mere moment, Counselor. It seems Fon's Ascendency party has been dominating leadership roles for the last twenty years. Del's Core party on the other hand has been losing ground," said Picard.

"The distrust between them is nearly overwhelming," she agreed. "Del believes that Fon is hiding something of a very serious nature. Fon wants to keep Del from any chance at stealing his position as Premier, and there is something else…."

Picard frowned down at her seriously. "What?"

"Del has no feeling for us whatsoever, except that he is uninterested in joining the Federation. Fon, Reth and Dr. Petral on the other hand all seem to share a…common disdain for us. Fon as you have seen is polite enough, but underneath is a very visceral dislike of us."

Picard placed his hands behind his back. "Hmm. Well if that is the case, I will have to press that point. Diplomatically, of course," he added with a small smile, glancing over at her.

Deanna smiled back at him. "Of course, sir."

* * *

><p>They walked along a little further in silence, and Troi felt his thoughts shift to another topic of concern. "Counselor, I need you to assist me with the Trana IV matter."<p>

"You mean the survivors?" She watched him carefully, aware that it was a delicate subject for him. He nodded almost imperceptibly, but didn't reply. There was no question that he had made the right moral decision to bring the Trana people on board, but now the issue was complicated. No doubt, the captain was under orders to keep the Trana people out of the way while the Ciapathian petition was sorted out. And in order to avoid further violations of the Prime Directive, exposure to Starfleet technology would have to be minimized. If the survivors required any kind of medical care, this would be difficult.

"I've discussed this issue with Commander Riker," said Picard. "And at least for now I want the Trana people to interact only with those who were present down on the planet…and you. You see, Counselor, in order for me to determine the correct course of action with regard to these people I need to find out how best to help them without further violations of the Prime Directive, if possible. But, I would like to know who these Brethren people are. Any questions posed to the Trana people outside of that subject are to be avoided. Understood?"

She nodded. "Yes sir."

"Good. Doctor Crusher is waiting for us outside the holodeck. I realize that it is getting late, but I think it important that we at least try and make some headway tonight. And then there is the matter of my involvement."

Deanna had guessed this was coming. "You want to avoid meeting with the Trana people as much as possible because they believe you are a god. And this makes you highly uncomfortable," she said.

He looked at her sharply, apparently annoyed that she had read him so accurately. "Yes," he confirmed tightly.

"Captain I have to advise against staying away. The more you personally interact with the Trana people, the more likely you are to get the answers you seek from them. In addition, you may be able to convince them that you are not in fact a god by interacting with them in the same manner as myself and Doctor Crusher ."

"Hmm," was all he said in response. Picard remained silent the rest of the walk to the holodeck, and she could tell that he was rolling the entire day's events around in his mind.

So much had happened in just one day, and just thinking about it made her exhausted. Deanna brought her hand up to her mouth to cover a yawn, shutting her eyes just as a fresh blast of emotion from Captain Picard's mind slapped her awake. She opened her eyes and saw that Beverly Crusher had turned to look at them from outside the holodeck. Deanna smiled at her new friend, who was holding a med kit, but Troi noted she had left her trusty tricorder behind.

Beverly smiled back at Deanna, but when her gaze fell on the captain, Troi felt another uncomfortable wave of emotion. _I don't think I am going to be able to handle the minds of these two together at this time of night, not to mention a group of distraught refugees. I really need a hot chocolate right now._

"The meeting went later than expected, I see," Crusher said.

"Yes," Picard said stiffly. "And we've got a long road ahead of us unfortunately. At any rate, thank you for coming, Doctor."

_You did order me to be here._ "Of course sir," she said aloud.

"I have just explained to Counselor Troi the tentative plan for dealing with the Trana people. I want to ensure that they are well cared for, well fed, and I also need to find out who the hell these Brethren are, they are so frightened of. In order to do that I plan on being as truthful with them as I can. Any medical care should be only to heal injuries they may have. No medical tests are to be done, whether they give consent or not."

Beverly nodded. 'Agreed." She gestured toward the door, obviously wanting to proceed.

* * *

><p>After switching to their universal translators, they entered the holodeck, and found that the survivors were nowhere to be seen. As they stood there however, shouts could be heard, and then in the distance they spotted the group of fourteen people with the exception of the man who had struggled with Rolani. No doubt he had isolated himself from the others.<p>

Rolani and her brother Li approached them first. They stared with interest at Troi before speaking. "We were taken by a fire that didn't burn, but when it was gone we were here," Rolani said, gesturing around her. "It seems like Trana…but it is not, is it?"

Picard stepped forward. "No," he said. Immediately Rolani, Li, and the rest of the group dropped to their knees in the dust averting their eyes. Troi and Crusher exchanged glances. Picard cleared his throat uncomfortably. "On Trana you said you saw our people come from the sky. Well we are now in the sky in a vessel that travels the stars. We took you away from Trana because we feared you would be killed. We want to offer you our assistance."

"I told the others you were god, and now they know this is true. You can make pictures of Trana…it seems like Trana, but here we are safe from the Brethren."

Picard stepped back, and gestured to Doctor Crusher. "We offer you medical aid. This is Doctor Beverly Crusher."

Beverly stepped forward, looking at Li, who stared back at her placidly. He looked maybe five years older than Wesley, and innocent. It was hard to believe he had attacked her inside the caves of Trana IV. Beverly looked into the young man's face. His nose was swollen and there was bruising underneath his eyes. "Your nose is broken," she said to him and then turned to Rolani. "I can help him." Rolani whispered in Li's ear and he nodded and then sat down on a large rock. Beverly knelt down next to him. She reached into her med kit and Picard saw that she had brought nothing that looked especially advanced. Just bandages and basic medical tools along with some medicines. "Are you in pain?" she asked Li.

He just stared at her and then whispered, "God saved me from the Brethren." Next to her she heard Picard's boots shuffle.

She smiled at Li and then reached out to wash his face with an antiseptic. He sat very still without objection. Then her gaze fell on the base of his neck and she saw small punctures tracking down beneath his clothing. They were healing, not completely scarred over, but certainly nothing that had happened within the last 24 hours. "What the-?" She turned and looked up at Rolani questioningly.

Rolani looked into her eyes and rolled up her own sleeve. There were hundreds of the same tiny punctures in her skin. "The Brethren take from us. And when we can give no more, we are Chosen to die."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

><p>Beverly sat down beside Li on a holodeck generated rock and looked up at Rolani. "The Brethren did this to you both?" Beverly studied the injection marks on their attendants necks and then looked more carefully at the young woman and even younger man now that they were closer to her. Both dark haired and dark eyed with pale, sickly looking skin, they could have been brother and sister.<p>

Rolani nodded. "What they have done to Li and myself, the Brethren have done to all of us. It has always been this way," she said. She waved to the other people who continued to kneel in the dust. "Come forward," she told them. "Come forward and show our god and his people what the Brethren have done to us."

Picard was about to protest, but Counselor Troi grabbed his arm and gave him a meaningful look. "Captain," she said in a low voice. "I know you don't appreciate the Tranan people's perception of you as being a god. But if that belief will allow them to be forthcoming with us, it could aid you in accomplishing your goal of finding out who these Brethren are...and the related question of what we are to do with the Tranan people you rescued."

Picard looked down at Troi, watching her closely. "Very well," he agreed quietly. "But I won't intentionally deceive these poor people."

Sheepishly the other Tranans walked forward, averting their eyes. They held out their arms and revealed their necks, which had similar marks and bruises. Beverly felt her neck and shoulders grow tense as they drew closer. They all bore a striking resemblance to one another. And all of them looked as though they had seldom seen any kind of sun, which seemed odd since they had probably resided in the rustic village she and Jean-Luc had walked through. She noted that the man who had fought with Rolani down on the planet's surface was still absent from the larger group.

Picard addressed Rolani. "Why have the Brethren treated you this way? Did they ever tell you why?"

Rolani bowed her head. "The ones who came before us...they always said that god would come...a god who resembles us in form. And he would take us away and destroy the Brethren, freeing us. And now we are safe with you, and the Brethren will feel your wrath."

"My wrath..." He muttered trailing off and glancing at Troi. Picard scratched his head. Rolani hadn't come close to answering his question, and he was unsure of how to respond to her statement. He could neither validate nor dismiss what Rolani was saying. It was her cultural belief after all; as outlandish and archaic as it seemed to him.

"Our god is not pleased," Rolani declared, taking in Picard's blank expression. "We must reveal ourselves to him to show our devotion." Immediately the entire group of Tranans began to strip off their meager clothing.

In less than a minute they stood naked, encircling Picard, Crusher and Troi.

The three Enterprise officers were speechless for a few moments.

Troi, who hadn't seen that many naked people together since her cousin's wedding, was the first to speak. "They appear very much human," she observed.

"Yes, they do," Beverly admitted. She looked over at the Captain. Instead of appearing embarrassed which is what she had expected, his expression was one of sadness. But only momentarily, and then his studied outer shell returned.

He held up his hand. "Please...all of this is not necessary for our benefit, Rolani. Please have them put their clothing back on."

"Do you wish the same for me?" She asked. Picard averted his eyes. There was an innocence to the way she spoke and seemed inherent in the Tranans' way of being.

"Yes," he said simply, still careful not to look at her. Clearly these were people who had been abused, and he did not want to be a reminder of the controlling or predatory behavior that they had come to expect from people in power.

Rolani bowed her head and then said something to the others which did not translate well, but they all began scrambling quickly to get back into their clothes, before kneeling down again.

"Does this please you more, god?" Rolani asked, looking up at him.

"Rolani, my name is Captain Picard," he said. "And I am not a god by any means, nor do I want to be."

"The ones who came before us said god would deny his identity to us at first. And so we must strive to gain his favor."

"Rolani," said Deanna, attempting to change the direction of the conversation. "The people who came before...do you mean your ancestors?"

Rolani frowned. "I do not understand."

Beverly smiled gently. "Your parents or other relatives. I had assumed that Li might be your younger brother. You appear so much alike."

Rolani shook her head in confusion. "I do not understand. The ones who came before us we knew only briefly before they were Chosen. When they became useless to the Brethren, they were Chosen."

"By 'chosen', you mean killed?" Beverly clarified.

Rolani nodded. "Yes. They are no more." Suddenly she began to cry and threw herself at Picard's feet, grasping his pant legs. "Please, god," she whispered. "Don't let them take us."

* * *

><p>"The Tranans' wounds are consistent with medical testing, Captain. If you'll allow me to examine them further, I may gain some clues about what the Brethren wanted with them. You have to let me do my job, Captain," Beverly added, in an attempt to give him less room to say no.<p>

Deanna Troi was seated inside Beverly Crusher's office, hands clasped in her lap, silently watching the conversation between her two colleagues unfold. Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher continued to stand, as apparently neither officer seemed to want to give up any ground either physically or intellectually.

"These people cannot possibly give anything resembling consent, Doctor. We shall have to find less invasive ways to learn just what happened to the Tranans."

"I'm not talking about my_ own_ medical tests, Captain. These would be simple exams."

"What's the difference?" he shot back.

"Well, for starters, I'm not the Brethren. I have these people's best interests in mind. And I'll be able to better assess their individual health status."

"The transporter's bio filter did its job and found no viruses or diseases," Picard said flatly.

"The fact that they aren't contagious, Captain, doesn't tell us what has been done to them-"

"It will have to suffice," he said shortly.

Troi covered a yawn. It was now officially past her bedtime. And yet, even as sleep beckoned, there was something fascinating about watching them argue. She had to get to know them of course; had to learn how best to relate to them both separately and together. Beverly Crusher, Troi had quickly learned was more comfortable with Troi alone than she was with the captain in the presence of someone else. She could only guess how they interacted in private, but if their current demeanor was any indication, they had a lot of work to do.

"Those people in there have been brutalized, Captain! We have a duty to help them," Crusher continued even more stridently.

"Of course I agree with you, Doctor. If I did not, I surely would not have brought them on board my ship," he replied tightly.

"And now that they are here? Why did you stop talking with Rolani? She was trying to _explain_ to us what happened to them."

Picard reached out his arm and leaned against the wall, looking at her. "I'll resume my conversation with Rolani tomorrow morning, Doctor. Frankly she was talking in circles, and making little sense."

"She was making sense to me. Maybe instead you mean to say that you were so uncomfortable with her constantly referring to you as a deity, that you couldn't bear to listen anymore."

He glared at her. "Doctor, I did not say...nor did I mean to say that I was at all uncomfortable with the situation. And I'll ask you not to put words in my mouth."

Beverly crossed her arms defiantly. "I'm sorry, Captain...was it inappropriate for me to suggest that something could possibly have an emotional effect on you?"

Picard sighed, rubbing his brow and then glanced over at Troi for support. He was angry, she could tell, but inside his mind she could also sense that he was insulted. That someone he so respected would compare him to an emotionless robot, had hurt him. And yet, instead of conveying his hurt, he buried it, to the extent that he almost proved Beverly's point, simply focusing his gaze on the counselor.

Deanna did her best to bring the conversation back to less personal territory. "So much has happened to the Trana survivors in just one day. As you said Beverly, they have been brutalized by these so-called Brethren. The trauma of that experience, and perhaps other cultural and religious reasons has made it difficult for them to clearly explain what has happened to them. But...I do believe that they are grateful to be here, and for the present time at least, they feel out of danger."

Picard nodded. "Good, I am glad they feel safe. But we need to try harder to communicate with them." He paused. "Counselor, I appreciate your contributions earlier on the holodeck; however... it is important that we focus on finding out who these Brethren are. Questions about the Tranan's familial ties and their religion should be avoided."

Deanna nodded diplomatically. "I understand your concerns, sir. But don't you think the more we learn about the Tranan people, the more we will learn about these so-called Brethren?"

He sighed. "Point taken, Counselor. Still it's hardly appropriate for us to assume that they share the same societal constructions that we do."

"Such as?" Beverly demanded.

He turned to her. "You assumed that Rolani and Li were brother and sister."

Beverly laughed and put her hands on her hips. "They _look _alike, for starters. And I don't have to be a physician to figure out that the Tranans probably reproduce like we do. Don't forget Captain," she said with a small smile. "They took their clothes off."

Picard simply glared at her, having no idea of a suitable response. Mercifully, his communicator beeped. "Go ahead."

_"Captain, Lieutenant Yar here."_

"Go ahead, Lieutenant."

_"Sir, the Ciapathian Security Chief-"_

"Reth's correct title is Chief of Arms, Lieutenant."

_"Aye, sir. Well Reth has brought some kind of creature on board."_

"Yes, I am aware of that fact, Lieutenant," he said impatiently, recalling the four foot long hissing insect-like creature.

_"Sir, initially we believed it was here for security purposes, but Chief of Arms Reth has clarified that it is his personal 'hunting companion'."_

"And?"

_"Well...sir I don't see what purpose it serves being here, and it could be a security risk, Captain."_

Picard could feel his patience ebbing. "Until it does anything dangerous, Yar, we'll allow it to remain on board. We are assuming it is some kind of dangerous beast, when in fact we don't know a thing about this being. Proceed with caution."

_"But sir-"_

"Picard out."

He looked up to find Troi and Crusher watching him. Did he detect a bit of sympathy in Beverly's gaze? _Not likely_, he decided, still annoyed by her earlier comments. "Now, if you will both excuse me," he said, "I have some administrative work to catch up on in my quarters." With that, he turned and left sick bay.

"Well," Beverly remarked, watching him go, before turning to Troi. "Can I interest you in some hot chocolate before bed?"

Troi broke into a smile. "Yes, that sounds wonderful," she agreed.

* * *

><p>"I told you, I <em>don't<em> want to be married, and I _won't_ do as you say anymore!"

Wesley Crusher slowed down just as a large pink suitcase slammed against the wall of the corridor, and tumbled to the floor spilling some of its contents. He could see it had been thrown quickly from the doorway of one of the guest rooms. Wesley took a step back as a beautiful young woman burst from the room. He recognized her as Ciapathian. He quickly activated the universal translator on a nearby wall computer station.

He hadn't expected any teenagers-at least she seemed like a teenager-to accompany the Ciapathian contingent. Apparently not noticing Wes, the girl turned accusingly back to address someone inside the room, and this time, her words were understandable. "Father, I've had enough of this. I won't marry him and that is all."

A tall Ciapathian stepped from the room, and Wesley immediately froze, recognizing the man as Premier Fon, the Ciapathian leader. "You will not disappoint me, Hatha. Our family is the model for all of Ciapathia, and you _will_ fulfill your role."

"I will not!"

Wesley, despite the situation, and her belligerent attitude, was immediately captivated by the young woman. Still, he hesitated to intervene in the family argument.

Fon pointed sternly at his daughter. "Del has twenty-two devoted children; _twenty-two_ and I have just one ungrateful child-you! And to think the lengths your mother and I took to ensure you were born."

"Please spare me the details, Father," she said, bending low to begin picking up her belongings. It was then that she met Wesley's gaze and a small smile played over her face. Fon followed her gaze to find Wesley standing there and he didn't look at all happy. In fact Fon's expression was verging on hostile.

"Is everything alright here?" a powerful voice sounded from behind Wesley. He turned in surprise to find Captain Picard standing there, not having heard the man's approach. Picard put a brief hand on Wesley's shoulder before walking past him. "I heard shouting, Premier Fon. I do hope that your accommodations are agreeable enough."

Fon straightened. "Of course, Captain Picard. There is no trouble, I assure you. My daughter Hatha was merely picking up her belongings. Teenagers are so clumsy at times."

"Yes, I'm sure," Picard said tersely, and shot Wesley a meaningful glance.

"Come Hatha," Fon said beckoning his daughter back into their guest quarters.

Hatha and Wesley stared at each other, but she followed her father, apparently giving up the fight for the moment.

Wesley watched as the two Ciapathians disappeared into the room and the door hissed shut. Presently he could feel the captain staring at him.

"A very pretty young woman," Picard commented, still giving Wesley a sideways glance.

"Huh? Yeah...I mean, yes sir."

Picard lifted his chin. "Mr. Crusher...I don't suppose that you are aware of the importance of this negotiation between the Federation and the Ciapathian government."

"Um...I guess so, sir."

"You _guess_ so?" Wesley's frightened expression caused Picard to soften his tone, but only slightly. "Mr. Crusher, you are a civilian, but as captain of this vessel, I have to caution you...don't use my negotiation as an opportunity to find your first girlfriend." Wesley opened his mouth to answer, but Picard turned on his heel abruptly and marched back down the hallway.

Wesley swallowed. "Yes sir," he murmured, as the captain disappeared around the corner.

* * *

><p><strong>Hello, and thanks for following this story. Peace out...PP<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

><p>Wesley had been unable to sleep nearly all night long, but now as it was time to get up for school he now decided he would prefer to remain in bed. He pulled the covers up to his chin and rolled onto his back smiling up at the ceiling. He couldn't stop thinking of the beautiful girl he had seen last night while wandering the corridors. Hatha had been her name, and he wished he could see her again soon.<p>

But somehow, even in his haze, he was acutely aware that reading into her friendly glances, or ignoring the silent but threatening stares of her father- who just happened to be the leader of the Ciapathian people-was not a good idea. For one thing, he had happened upon a conversation between Hatha and her father in which Hatha had been talking about not wanting to get married to some guy; a guy who her father on the other hand, really wanted her to marry. What kind of society didn't allow people to choose who they wanted to marry, or who not to for that matter? Being who he was and where and when he was from, Wesley couldn't fathom it.

In addition, he had a feeling that Hatha was much older than him-she looked almost eighteen! Granted, she was from a different species, and who knew what the rules were when you looked at it in that way? But to make matters even more complicated, Captain Picard had only his negotiations with Hatha' s politician father in mind when he had pretty much warned Wesley not to even entertain the thought of making a move. Surely the captain had some idea of how fragile poor Wesley's ego was. It wouldn't be hard to discourage Wesley from pursuing Hatha romantically; not that Wesley was at all sure how to make a move if given the opportunity.

He sincerely doubted Captain Picard would ever be the one to give him any pointers either. He silently resolved to be more like Captain Picard when it came to everything, including women. He highly doubted that Picard had ever been stymied by a woman, and even if he had, he probably never let her know it. _Be more like the captain,_ he urged himself, trying to keep thoughts of his new infatuation at bay.

It was almost time for school. Wesley yawned, and finally rolled out of bed, stepping out of his bedroom. His mother was already on her way out the door, and was pulling on her blue lab coat. She turned to look back at him.

"Good morning. You were up for a long time last night...I saw your light was on late."

"Yeah," he mumbled as he replicated himself a bowl of cereal. "I had a lot of reading to do."

"Difficult homework?" Beverly nodded toward the data pad in his hand.

He shrugged and sat down at the table. The truth was, homework was never difficult for him. "Not really... just distracted, that's all," he replied. _Uh oh. _He instantly regretted uttering those words. Now his mother would not let up until she discovered what was bothering him.

"Distracted?" she said as if on cue, and placed her empty coffee cup down on the table. "By what?"

He shrugged again and shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, carefully averting his gaze from hers.

_Of course he's met a girl._ Beverly kept her expression innocent, and certainly did not even come close to rolling her eyes at her son. But why did teenagers always think they were the first to have experienced _everything_? Beverly let out a short laugh before slinging her med kit over her shoulder. "Okay," she said easily. "Have a great day... I'll see you tonight at dinner then."

Wesley's eyes widened as he swallowed too much milk and it went down the wrong pipe. After coughing uncontrollably for a few seconds, he choked out the words "...at dinner?"

She turned back slowly to look at him with a curious yet amused expression. "Yes...remember I told you there will be a dinner tonight for the Ciapathian dignitaries and we're both going."

"I'm invited?"

"Well as a senior officer _I __have _to go. I'd like you to attend with me...but if you have other plans..." She raised an eyebrow.

Wesley put down his spoon and tried to appear dignified. He knew she was on to him, but he was still going to try and be discreet. _Think like Picard. _If he went to the dinner he would have the problem of trying to avoid both the stares of Hatha, (assuming she hadn't forgotten about him by then) the captain, and now his mother. "Are you sure the captain wouldn't mind me going?" He remembered the stern look on the captain's face the night before.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Besides, you're with me. If he has a problem with you being there, I'll leave too. Believe me..._that_ he would mind."

Wesley looked down at the table and tapped the handle of his spoon against the edge of the bowl before remembering how much that annoyed his mother.

Beverly walked back to the table and leaned on the back of a chair with her elbows. "Wes...did something happen with Captain Picard recently that I should know about?"

He looked up at her. "Not really."

She raised her eyebrows, but he remained stoic.

"Not really? What is that supposed to mean?" she prompted.

Wes shrugged and got up from the table. "If it's alright, Mom, I really don't want to talk about it. At least not right now."

She shrugged resignedly. "Okay..." Beverly watched her son walk out of the room, before she sighed and turned to leave their quarters.

* * *

><p>When Beverly arrived in main sickbay for duty that morning, she could immediately tell that something was wrong. Most of her staff were milling around as if unsure of what exactly they were expected to do, with the exception of Doctor Selar who stood with her hands draped behind her back. The Vulcan physician's posture mirrored that of the figure who stood facing away from her, examining a wall monitor in silence. "I regret to inform you sir that this area is not authorized for visitors. Once again, please step away from the monitor or I will have to contact security."<p>

Beverly approached Selar and gave her colleague a questioning glance.

"This person has been...exploring main sick bay for the last 15 minutes, Doctor," Selar informed her. "Although his jacket is affixed with a translation device, he has not spoken, and he has seemingly disregarded my attempts to converse with him," Selar added tersely.

Beverly walked closer to the very still individual. "Excuse me...I am Doctor Beverly Crusher and I happen to be the Chief Medical Officer on board this ship. And who might you be?"

She circled around in front if the person who she noted must be one of the Ciapathians. He appeared to have masculine characteristics, but as a doctor she was not one to presume anything. With a very slight build, his hair was jet black and slicked back, his skin was a bright pink, and he had a ridge of bone that started at the top of his forehead and disappeared underneath a very odd looking visual prothsesis. It was ruby red in color and unlike Geordi's Visor, covered the entire upper half of the alien's face.

The reply was a low guttural sound unfamiliar to her, but the translation was: "Forgive me, doctor. I am quite...unused to speaking with humans. My name is Doctor Petral."

Beverly smiled tensely. _ Yes, definitely one of the Ciapathians. _"Good to meet you, doctor. Now how may I help you?"

Doctor Petral turned slowly to face her and she had the distinct impression that she was being studied. "You are a female of the human species, are you not?"

Surprised at such a question, Beverly raised a protective hand instinctively to her chest. "I am..." She cleared her throat and glanced at Selar.

"And you also have males on board? I believe I have already met several of those."

"Yes," said Beverly simply. "But we do not refer to other human beings as 'those'," she said. "We refer to them as other people," she said, very aware of the edge in her own voice. _This is why I'm not a diplomat._

Seeming uninterested in human social requirements, Petral turned his visor to focus on Selar. "I did not know that humans worked so closely with other species. How fascinating."

"I agree," said Selar. "It is quite fascinating."

"It explains the remarkable progress of the human species," continued Petral coolly. "Collaboration can sometimes bring many technological, social, and scientific advantages, not achievable by a more isolated species. Diversification can also have the effect of eliminating many primitive traits."

"_Primitive_?" Beverly's eyebrows shot up.

"But your Vulcan species has a reputation for scientific advancement our people are eager to examine more closely," Petral said to Selar, continuing to ignore Beverly.

Selar straightened and lifted an eyebrow. "As you may be aware, Doctor, the Vulcan people now readily share our advancements with the other founding members of the Federation-most readily with humans, in fact."

Selar looked at her, but Beverly merely tilted her head in response, unsure if she wanted to inject herself back into this odd conversation.

Petral pointedly turned his attention back to Crusher, finding his visor on her face. Then he seemed to scan up and down her body, and she felt a sudden and specific kind of revulsion. "And you are of child-bearing age? Or are you still...immature?"

Beverly frowned, and then deciding to take it in stride, crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a thin smile. "Doctor Petral, in our culture, these kind of questions are...inappropriate. If you would like, however, I can offer you some scientific materials to read which will catch you up on human sexual function...as it seems to be an interest of yours."

Petral smiled oddly. "As an alternative, would you be willing to demonstrate?"

"Demonstrate..."

"Human sexual function. As I have conveyed I find the subject most stimulating."

Beverly felt her face grow hot with embarrassed anger. She opened her mouth to tell him to go to hell, but instead said: "You will have to satisfy your need for stimulation by accessing the ship's library."

"These questions bother you? But you are a scientist..."

Beverly glanced at Selar. "Doctor Selar...I need your assistance in recovery room one," she said coolly. Selar nodded, and Beverly turned briefly to Petral. "You will have to excuse us, Doctor Petral, but we're quite busy this morning. Please request permission from Captain Picard the next time you plan to visit sick bay."

* * *

><p>"That's just it, Captain, I sense very little good will from the Ciapathians. Del is perhaps the most genial of any of them, and he simply does not want to be here. He seems...puzzled by the current administration's interest in joining the Federation, when the culture has largely been isolationist for so many years."<p>

"They don't have to _like _ us, Counselor," said Picard. "This is a negotiation not a social function."

Deanna pursed her lips, but decided no response was appropriate.

"What about Premier Fon?" Riker questioned. "He has very little to add...frankly sir, he seems disgusted to be in the same room with us. As the primary in this negotiation, that's more than a little surprising. It's almost easy to forget that the Ciapathians were the ones who initiated this meeting in the first place."

"Which begs the question: why are they here at all?" Tasha Yar interjected.

Picard's face took on a disagreeable expression, and he sat back in his chair heavily. "The answer I am _sure_, is that the Ciapathians have more complex motivations than a simple longing to be members of the Federation." He sat forward and tapped his fingertips on the table. "My next meeting with Fon is in an hour. Counselor I would like you to be present with me. Something doesn't seem quite right, and I want to get to the bottom of it."

"Of course, Captain," Troi agreed, careful not to show her surprise that he seemed suddenly interested in enlisting her help.

Riker turned to Yar. "Any security issues of note?"

Yar hesitated, remembering the captain's irritation last time she mentioned the strange giant bug the Ciapathian security chief Reth had brought on board. "No sir."

Riker nodded. "Let's be subtle, but let's also keep a careful eye on our guests. I agree with Captain Picard...something is off about the Ciapathians." He glanced at the captain who didn't look impressed in the slightest by the can-do attitude of his first officer. Will crafted a patient look on his face and waited for his signal.

"Dismissed," Picard said, now studying his computer screen closely. "Oh, except you, Counselor," he said not bothering to look up, which still had the effect of halting Troi's rise from the table mid-way. She smiled slightly at Riker, who after a sympathetic wink, turned and left the room trying to match the quick footsteps of Yar.

* * *

><p>Riker hummed a tune he had been trying to work out on his trombone, but standing alone in the turbo lift it sounded very silly to his own ears; so he stopped. At deck ten, Wesley Crusher stepped in. "Hi, Commander Riker."<p>

Will looked down at the young man, clutching his school data pad and carefully avoiding eye contact. Intrigued, Will put his arm out and leaned against the wall of the lift."Halt," he said, and the turbo lift obeyed. He raised an eyebrow when Wesley glanced up at him with subdued alarm. "No school?"

Wesley held his data pad in front of himself and leaned back against the wall. "Yeah...but it's lunch time."

Riker nodded and crossed his arms, looking up at the ceiling. "Everything okay?" he lowered his gaze to Wesley.

Wesley froze. Was it that obvious? He shrugged, unsure of how much he should say to Riker. "Uh...I don't know if I should say."

Riker's grin widened. "Oh, you can count on me to keep a secret."

"It's not a secret," is what rushed out of Wesley's mouth before he was able to stop himself. "I mean..."

"Let me guess...it's about a woman, and you need advice." Riker spread his palms wide. "I'm here for you, lay it on me."

Wesley explained what had happened the night before. Riker listened carefully and then started laughing.

Wesley reddened. "It's not that funny...besides, the captain seemed really serious when he said that."

Riker sobered quickly. _When doesn't he seem really serious?_ "Listen, the captain was just concerned that your relationship with Ha-what's her name again?"

"Hatha," Wesley said, feeling his face grow hot.

"The captain was just concerned that your relationship with Hatha would affect the negotiations with the Ciapathians. But, it doesn't have to, right?"

"I guess not," Wes admitted. "Meaning...you're saying I should...I should say something to her?"

Riker stared at him as though he had two heads. "No...I mean, not yet. You have to let her _see_ you first. And if she's interested,_ then_ maybe you approach her."

"What?" Wesley blurted out. "How am I supposed to know that she's interested?"

Riker clapped Wesley on the shoulder genially. "Trust me, you'll figure it out. Deck twelve, resume."

_No, I won't,_ Wesley thought sourly as the lift began to move once more. He tried to look as cool as possible when he said: "Any other advice?"

Riker rubbed his chin and studied the young man carefully. "Not to be shallow but...you've got to lose the sweater," he said, pointing at Wesley's drab brown ribbed sweater, which seemed not one, but two sizes too big for him.

Wesley nearly dropped his school pad, trying to defend his sweater from the first officer's harsh opinions. "Sir...haven't you noticed that every kid on this ship seems to be wearing a sweater like this?"

Riker nodded. "Sad, isn't it? But if you want to catch the eye of this young lady, Wesley, you can't be just every kid." The turbo lift halted again and the doors opened. Riker glanced back with a wink as he stepped clear. "See you at dinner."

* * *

><p>Beverly washed a scrawny young girl's forearm with a mild antiseptic, while Rolani looked on with curiosity. Beverly smiled at the girl she was treating, hoping she wasn't scaring her, and wishing the captain would have allowed her to do more than deliver first aid to the Tranan refugees. "Who did this to you?" She asked the girl quietly, attempting to make eye contact.<p>

This girl turned wide eyed to Rolani for permission, and Rolani nodded.

"The Brethren," the girl whispered.

"Hmm..." Beverly had heard this before. "And what do the Brethren look like?"

"They have no faces, and they shine bright lights on us. They tell us to lie still to make the sacrifice."

Beverly felt her face tighten with anger. "Is that when they do this?" She asked lightly running her hand over one of the dark puncture marks on the girl's skin. The girl said nothing, but stared up into Beverly's face.

"Your hair shines," the girl said. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen."

Beverly laughed and found herself spontaneously hugging the little girl. "Well I think you are beautiful too," she said, slowly releasing the child from her embrace.

She felt Rolani watching her and turned to look. "What's wrong, Rolani?"

"You are not god?"

Beverly shook her head, and sat back on her haunches. "No", she said simply.

"And yet you do not fear God. When he was here with us, you did not fear him."

Beverly wasn't sure how best to address the Tranan' s unshakable belief that the captain was their deity. "That's because when you take away our rank, which is a feature of our role as Starfl-as explorers I mean, we are equal to each other."

"Even though he is god," Rolani said skeptically.

Beverly sighed. "Captain Picard and I are both sentient beings. Neither of us has more rights than the other."

Rolani sat down next to Beverly on the holodeck generated ground. "When will god help us to destroy the Brethren?"

Beverly shook her head again. "I am sorry, Rolani, but that's not what we do. Our role is to explore. Sometimes we are forced to defend ourselves. But that is different from outright aggression."

"The ones who came before told us about god, and how he was to destroy the Brethren. Please do not speak lies to us."

Beverly stood up from her crouching position, no l onger feeling welcome in this place. She thought about her disturbing encounter with Doctor Petral earlier in the day, and was again disgusted by his strange and intrusive behavior. She considered mentioning it to Deanna later, if she remembered. "I should go now," she said to Rolani. She glanced around and saw that Li, the young man who had attacked her in the caves was hunched over on the ground, rocking back and forth. She walked closer to him and glanced back at Rolani. "Is he alright?"

Rolani smiled proudly. "Li is preparing himself."

"For what?"

"To be an instrument for god...he will help to destroy the Brethren."

A slow chill worked its way through Beverly's abdomen, and she backed cautiously away. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. "Rolani...where is the man who disagreed with you down on Trana IV. The one who fought you?"

Rolani pointed to where a simulation of the caves on Trana IV stood in the distance. "He is there. He is being punished."

* * *

><p>When Beverly exited the holodeck, she stood for a moment trying to collect herself before tapping her communicator. "Crusher to Picard. I need to see you right away, Captain."<p> 


End file.
